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Had there been a sigh of millions
There could have been a roar of laughter
Thousands of footsteps would join in a long procession
Holding the candle brighter than many thousand suns
Voices would choke voices in writhing pains
It could have created a symphony of stormy petrels
Agonies would melt in blowing whistles
The dead souls could have risen all in togetherness
Burning the ashes of ruins in earthly delights
Shadows of nights would walk down the long aisle
Had there been a storm and bursts of thunder
It could have kindled the pyre of midnight empire.
It could have been an easier sky
It could have weaved a new web of reasons
To hold aloft the circle of long lost sanctity
Equality could have been the mother of lesser things
Hungry autumn would blossom in millions of flowers
Had there been a last supper in the yonder heaven
Holy grail would kiss the bowl of hunger
Sacred psalms would sing a lullaby in remains of ruins
Awakening the souls of the motherless child
It could have been the rights of all together
It could been the sighs of conscience for the millions
Had there been a good harvest of roar of laughter
And had there been no darkness at noon to bluster.
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