The bells fall silent for those who sleep,

As a gentle breeze doth ease their souls.

The trees have grown where men once stood,

From East to West upon the shoals.  

The voices of children, now in beds,

Silenced by the passing years.

Echoed now only in the winds,

A somber reminder of their fears.

The gentle sands that sweep the shore,

Have settled in roots of the Sycamore.

As the passing of an age unseen,

Is remembered only in their dreams.

For no more do men tarry there,

Neither do their women cry.

For the people no more suffer,

And the children no longer die.

The Earth is filled with silence,

As the final breath doth fade.

And none remain to witness hope,

For one last stubborn thought of man,

Was ended by a bloody blade.

(Alternative final stanza)

The Earth is filled with silence,

As the final breath doth fade.

Life ripped away in violence,

By the end of a bloody blade.