The clouds above seem ominous
And cast dark shadows over us
The wind is still and quiet now
There is no swaying of the bough.
The silence of this early morn
Bears portents of a day forlorn
Oh Lord, we weep for those we’ve lost
Is there no end to freedom’s cost,
Where is the path for us to save
Our world from such a reckless knave ?
Claire V. Bogdanos 