If you go outside at night
After the world has gone to sleep,
You can hear the Planet sigh
Pained by the secrets that She keeps.
The Wind sings a different song
Than the ones you hear by day,
As though it’s choking on the words
That we’re too afraid to say.
They don’t wonder about the problems
That are melted in Her core,
And that it’s packed so close to bursting
She can’t hold it for much more.
For how can they see Her weakness
When they’ve known something so strong,
When she weeps, and they can’t hear it,
Does it mean there’s something wrong?