We hear you walking on our massive grave.
We feel the warm rain falling from your eyes.
We hear the steady beat of hearts so brave -
A counterpoint, to hundred million cries
Of horror, disbelief, and anger dark,
Rising from the depth where vengeance lies.
A prayer of sorrow sung to music stark,
A scream of terror rising to the skies,
Our broken bodies sing, of spirits fled
Away, among the clouds where eagle flies.
And as our names are numbered with the dead,
And as we fly where courage never dies,
The warm and loving rain of hope still streams,
Upon the broken soil of shattered dreams.

Mick McKellar
September 2001