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Humankind
When night should rear its beautiful head,
Why must we run,
Why have we fled?

When night should come and end the day,
Why must we fret,
Why do we pray?

Is it the things that come with night,
Is it the pain,
Is it the fright?

Is it ones only love and only hope lost,
Is it the west,
Is it the frost?

Must we continue to hide and run,
Must we wait,
Must we shun,

Those in the west,
Who had little choice,
And little say,
And zero voice.


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