Spirits Stirred

Screams again sometimes haunt the nights

Awakening those souls who hallowed slept

In the granite forest of Halifax consecrated hills

For years no spirits there have wept

Nameless numbers chiseled hard in stone

The ones whose bodies still unknown

They were the victims of the fateful Titanic sinking

Buried far from families, unmarked, alone

Two hundred or more souls delivered

From the Atlantic’s ice cold grip

Souls offered peace with their maker

Those who died on that icebergs famous rip

Yet Hollywood found the secret resting place

Of the spirits of children, women and men

Bright lights, prying cameras and tourists

Trampled all new their blanket of green

Now in Halifax we still remember them

These adopted citizen souls long past

We kept silent vigil over their memories

So their grace with God was cast

Yet Hollywood found their secret resting place

Of the spirits of children, women and men

Bright lights, prying cameras and tourists

Trampled all new, natures own blanket of green

So now the spirits dragged up souls

Tourists grabbing souvenirs of dirt and sod

How macabre is the heart of man

Who even defies the will of God!