If they could speak,
you would know me,
Long trees in dense forests,
Rocks adorning bliss,
Slippery roads,
Rivers of blood,
Cries of pain in silence,
For the world is a mute spectator.

If they could speak.
I would be where you are,
Far away from here,
Where the are rivers are red,
Deafening sounds of death are music,
Hands and fingers are miles apart
At every step,
And life sold in every market.

If they could speak,
My brothers and friends,
You would know,
Empty rooms that wait,
Windows that treasure eyes,
Still and teary,
For their blood to return,
A return that will never be

If they could speak,
You would know,
This will be the story of blood,
The story of life For evermore.