What say ye, as the hands of time
No longer has a face,
As tortures of a torrent war
Inflict the human race.
The barren sands of struggle blow
Harsh winds throughout the night,
Yet leaves an absence in its presence
To slowly vanish out of sight.
Peace may roam the barren sands,
The winds may change no more,
As despair brings hate and violence,
A vacant silence lay in store.
The barren sands of war diminish,
become our dwelling place,
like the sand within an hourglass,
as empty time fulfills its space.
What say ye, as the sands of time
no longer has a face,
as the tortures of a torrent war
destruct the human race.