What if this night screams out loud,
Calling your name over again?
Will you then brave this rain,
And row back into your fallen home?
What if the windows creak again,
Hearing your whispers from afar?
Will you seek your old room once again,
To search for memories on crumbled walls?
This night conspires to hide from you,
A laden sky and blinded stars,
And the little boy on his toes,
Fearing the rain may drown him too.
Now we don’t have any land to stand,
And we don’t have any burial grounds.
The river now lives in our rooms,
While we wade to nothingness.