In a war-torn world, cradling strife-worn souls,
Our troubled gaze wanders, to the far horizon,
Through the endless night, we worry and we wait
For the light of the living sun.

Regretting the past and fearing the future,
Sundered from our kind, we wonder what to do,
Staring at the present, one fleeting moment
Which vanishes, like the morning dew.