Requiem of Ame's dead
Down the rain-slicked streets of mud and stone,
Through the lonely market where vendors held shop,
Where mothers held tight to their children's hands,
Never imaging that anything would ever be different.
Over fields of poppies where the soldiers fought,
Through the empty streets, down the echoing alleys
To the suffocating tower of eternity.
It is ghosts who haunt these empty hallways.
It is spirits who light the dust-covered candles.
It is phantoms that twirl in the silent ballroom.
It is lost souls that dream of yesterday.
What mortal man flits through these halls?
What lonely soul brushes away invisible fingers?
What tormented being resides in this tower?
Only the one who brought the ghosts.
