So true are the shadows of ourselves
That as we look back and remember
A diffrent type of saddness beholds us
One where we hurt so bad
To see our past mistakes
That we feel we should shut our eyes
Refrain from opening that closed and locked door
Where we keep our memories
Those that will haunt us
If we give in to the beckoning
And calling of syrian voices
Because even though the pain
Runs through and through
We stil latch on to the very last semblance of happiness
That we can find, that we can bring out from all
Those memories and tears of pain
To bring out and draw out the process of healing
So that we live in a world where reality
Is half marked by the shadows of the past
