A withering apple tree
Will ripen with the days,
And share its fruity love
With bees and mocking jays.
In snowfall there is hope,
For those of us who roam
The footprints of a deer
Will always point towards home
And scorching suns may turn
A sandy shore to coal,
But wavy seas will rise
To soothe our aching soles.
Those seasons of decay
Will always end in May
And every broken heart,
Will mend itself with clay.
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bohemiaspeaks.com
Let the winter come
Let the storms hit bay
Let there be no innocence
In the month of may
Let the bleeding cry
And the darkness reign
Let the cold take every heart
A thousand years of pain
Let the fields go bare
Let the hungry die
Let there be no stars above
To guide a moonless sky
Let the music play
And the artists paint
Let there be a time for us
To cherish every saint
Let the singers sing
And the writers write
Let them make a meaning of
These tragedies in sight
And why were those words ever said
Let there be a light
What good has light brought to this world
When all we’ve done is fight
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in memory of Nelson Mandela
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