Hear the strings of the violin. Hear the beats of the drum. Hear the pain of my heart
As You walk down the path headed towards Your death.
Hear the children play. Hear the rhythms of the whistling trees. Hear the moaning of the world lost. The moans You replace with Your own.
Hear the birds singing. Hear the waves of the breeze. Hear the first sounds of a morning without You here. I thought You were gone forever.