Smoke rises,

in this labyrinth of doom ,
where hope lost its way,
dark is the day,
when smoke rises,

Thin fingers in vain,
cobwebs but form,
in shame to show sun,
what man has done.

but tears of dew,
as fog weeps.
In a cradle of Rubble,
a young heart beat.

and sun has seen,
for sun has shone,
over each field,
where life has grown.

And smoke rose on,
and made it known,
the kings of doom
have lost thier crown.

3. Smoke

4. Full Circle