In the light, we could see what we must remember;
In this darkness we’re blind but we cannot forget.
Is there not in our hands still some truth? an ember?
All that was is not lost; believe lies and regret.
Still the whisper you’ll hear, but be strong when it comes;
for the shouts of the past now grow weak and are gone.
So this rhythm I leave to be pounded on drums,
and this song I now give to be played on and on.
Tale Told 