The watcher keeps the edge of night,
To see the harrowed children cry.
He sees unblinking in the dark,
the window through his watchful eyes.
For much has he seen in his time,
could make the voided darkness sigh.
The nightmare keeps within the walls,
and endless years have withered by.
The cry of babes do rent the air,
The crack of canes and broken backs.
A vision of bleakest despair
for suffering stops time in it’s tracks.
The evil bears a human face,
the likes of which that hell know not.
The watcher abandons his place.
for come the smell of death and rot.
A child does sing out in the dusk
a melody of loss and pain,
now there is no one he may trust,
he sings, for he may not contain
The sorrow in his youthful soul.
His tears burn down the orphanage,
his anger, their bones tears apart
His mind escapes this wretched cage
if only in his little heart.
kulundra 