In the midst of dark cold nights
Movements are heard rustling about
Screams in agony no one hears
Except the victims final pleas
In the skies blasting thunders heard
Forming rivers of blood
Who hears the agony of pains?
Except those who watch
Who are the aggressors moving about
Is it the strong destroying the meek?
All this is found in the lands of the free
Look around and so what is found?
Sit there in your warm castles
Each in their own wealth above others
Ach, this is wise man, destroyers
Yet still, greed in the end only brings
Copyright © maria gothard