As day ends,
Light outstretched,
It's Crimson to the eye.
The days' Blood?
On all our hands,
Written in the sky.
Our mortality revealed,
Too soon for so many,
A pandemic so they cry.
Our lives,
Of which we cherished,
Replaced with live or die?
But in hope,
So we realise,
The meaning of our lives.
Not in wealth,
Not in compare,
But in subject life's defined.
That is family,
That is home,
That is neighbour,
What feels right.
Not in wealth,
Not in compare
But in subject life's defined
May 2, 2020
May 2, 2020 at 6:32 PM UTC
As day ends,
Light outstretched,
It's Crimson to the eye.
The days' Blood?
On all our hands,
Written in the sky.
Our mortality revealed,
Too soon for so many,
A pandemic so they cry.
Our lives,
Of which we cherished,
Replaced with live or die?
But in hope,
So we realise,
The meaning of our lives.
Not in wealth,
Not in compare,
But in subject life's defined.
That is family,
That is home,
That is neighbour,
What feels right.
Not in wealth,
Not in compare
But in subject life's defined