I'm calling for you.
I'm calling for you.
But my words cannot pierce the veil,
static crackles throughout the air.

The raid was a violence
now there's radio silence,
mass graves dug for those
who no longer are there.
I turn the radio off
and sail out to sea.
The ocean neither roars or whispers
gulls glide on winds that shiver
up and down our spines.

It's so quiet.
It's so quiet.

There's nothing left to hear
except our own crying.

Our own crying.