FELL THE DROPS OF GRACE..
IN THE CREVACES OF LAND SO DROUGHT,
FILL THE THIRST OF DEMISE..
TO THE VINEYARDS WIT OF WHITHERED,
POUR YOUR CRIES..
UNDER THE SUN'S CRUELTY,
MAY YOUR TEARS HEAL THE RAGING PAIN...
OF DESERT'S MIMICRY,
AND THE CACTUS OF HOPES TO DRINK YOUR BRINK,
BLOW YOUR WHINE IN SAHARA'S LAST WISH,
MAKE THE PHYLUM SAVOR YOUR DAM OF EMPTINESS..
MAKE EVERY RACE HEAR THAT YOU ARE ONE OF US,
WILL BE FADING LIKE A SMOKE OF GENTLENESS,
FOR OUR GREED, IS WHAT MAKES YOU CHANGED.
