They that went
Slain by death
All created wait for their day to fall
Returning to dust, Gods own making
For in life there is death as every beginning has an end

Like the tree bears leaves without knowledge starts to loose its leaves
So are our numbered days to shine on earth

No one wants to return to the maker, the struggle hits different
Before succumbing to Gods call we leap for air
To sip on the breathe for another moment
For when the day is due neither tear nor joy can't stop the chariot that comes to pick you

The ones you love go before you just to remind you of your journey
And as you are loved to many that you too will leave

A clap of the living
The silence of the dead

My people dead
Down the grave they lay
Awimawee.... Down the ground
Beautiful, short and tall alike. Clothed or naked no more

Am I to miss you on top of the prayers I may
Or do I cry and make tantrums over memories

But if we must die,we die dead not alive
Dead in body not dead in mind of the living
Not dead in moral and inhumanity
Dead in I forgiveness and buried hopeless
Dressed in witches yet sit at the high table in the church of the Lord
My people dead
They want me dead too, to which I strive to live
Their body live though gone sooner than grave' call