Hear it?
Hear it now?
Like the mournful
Wail of a night train,
A buoy on a fog bound
Coast, a loom on
A forest lake

It's hard to hear it
Over the laughter, the rush,
The fun, the games,
The tingle of tinsel.

There it is.
It's the heart of their cities,
The solitary cry of a million souls,
The soft murmur of a river of blood,
The mourning of mothers.
It's a soulful symphony
Of sorrow.

Listen with your heart.