Mountains Of Ash

To be an old man in world of fury
Is different than being a young one
My curtain’s coming down but play goes on
In earnest with the death of innocence

Not quite free of entanglement of me
I see with devastated clarity
I wake in night wishing I were dreaming
I wake in night knowing I’m but a dream

Bombing Iran, the fury of the shame
That cannot say its own name, kills because
It can, only because it can, abhors peace 
Because it cannot quiet its chaos

I mourn in advance what I see coming
Hope burned buried in mountains of ash