Who?
Who shall sing my song when all that remains
are scattered rhythms
Who shall gather the tattered tunes and stand
face to the stinging wind, upright in powerful gales,
rag to a bloodied eye -
Who shall sing clear and unfraid, holding my torch aflame
illuming all that was, and could still be,
Who shall fearlessly recollect light in dark times?
Who shall care to sing my song?
Who shall remember me?
So timely and, because of that, heartbreakingly real and powerfully moving!
ReplyDeleteThis makes me incredibly sad. Beautiful, plaintive words!
ReplyDeleteI think the song can still be sung... it's etched in the heart of too many human beings to be silenced.
ReplyDeleteI think this is something we all wonder....who will sing our song when we are gone!
ReplyDeleteA powerful piece. You have posed a question I have often grappled with - and struck the chords of that melody ... perfectly.
ReplyDeleteWho will 'dare' sing the song in fact as I am old enough to remember tyranny and the consequences of opposition.
ReplyDeleteSeems to me you are singing it – and beautifully.
ReplyDelete" stand face
ReplyDeleteto the wind upright in the gales and sing" – so beautifully said...
Wonderfully thought provoking.
ReplyDeleteThe biggest of questions: who shall??? Beautifully penned, as always...
ReplyDelete