The Curse
SARAJEVO the curse
The shadows have been cast our way
both dark and bleak and black and gray
to play upon each foolish mind
no one can reach or ever find
where we have been and where we'll stay
in search of truth that is not there
although we feel it everywhere
illusive as our last nights dream
where nothing's quite as it would seem
and so we only sit and stare
out dirty windows to our cold
and world of death not growing old
nor recognizing truth flows by
down in our River, where we die
it's all our story, never told.
Some try to make some sense of it
the love we've known still hurts a bit
though time has eased the flowing tears
our pain goes on for years and years
and we will not get over it.
© Ron Arbuthnot
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