It Belongs To Them
Click to enlarge
It belongs more to them than us;
They rhyme with the wind and wave,
Move with the primal motions,
Each a dancer in the cosmic dance.
We have made ourselves outsiders,
Passersby watching without knowing,
Vandals of the cradle
Vandals of the cradle
With no ear for the song.
We think it is ours
But it only waits our passing.
And when we are gone
No anthem will praise
No dirge will mourn.
Click to enlarge
And when we are gone
No anthem will praise
No dirge will mourn.