The Wind Cries Out

A mother standing in the ruins of her home, crying out for the son she lost to the war. Panel two: the voice of the grief - long passage of time as she lives in the ruins. ------------------------------------LYRICS---------------------------------------- The snow is falling on the shattered stone, The wind cries through where our warm kitchen stood. I stoke the hearth with splintered, frozen wood, And sit within the dark, so stark, alone. The frame is empty where your portrait hung, The final song you sang, forever sung. How sharp the phantom of your touch remains— A sudden frost that burns within my veins. I trace the empty space where you should be, And drown inside this vast, unyielding sea. No shelter from the cold that fills the room, As winter seals our home inside a tomb. There is no comfort in the fading light, Just hours stretching through the endless night. A slow descent, a fracture in the soul, That time alone can never make whole. The wind cries out... No warmth left in the gray. Sleep well, my son... The cold has won. By GRACE RIVER This song is part of a triptych. The other 2 songs:    • The Last Winter      • The Last Winter - Instrumental