Oh what hopeful prayer i send to thee,
In this my hour of misery.
A belligerent death has done so wrong,
A wind has blown with brothers gone.
A face not mine in reflection i see,
and mirrors now they frighten me.
A voice of better times sowing mines,
and my eyes kept missing the growing signs.
The sight of razors such a heavy weight
this stretch of rope and a growing fate
It takes fifteen feet or five minutes of blood
the thoughts come on like a raging flood
so I raise my sword to fight this more,
though one day life will lose this war.