Presages from a Restless Soul

In the days of silence where there were no
 saviours, our father's thoughts perpetually stood.
 The sorrow and misery spoken through his
 words, in presages of a harrowing hereafter.
 A cordial shelter surrounded by the fog of wisdom.
 The wholehearted ways of life are solemnly preserved.
 Portraits of the peaceful times in the nest of freedom.
 The body may die, the soul eternal.
 And for how she cried as her man suffocated.
 The desperation arises as the time's brought to the end.
 Ashes of our hope scattered away as the skies turned red,
 over the lives that are guided by the wealth of nature.
 By the cradle of mildness where security
 persisted, our mother's prayers led us to the quiet nights.
 Her tender-hearted touches reminded us
 of a time, of unaltered nature and justice.
 We whispered their names to the winds of serenity,
 in battles with fear of sombre and starless night skies.
 We despised the darkness that stood within us all.
 The heart cried for revenge as their shadows faded into light.