The Hallows

In the hallowed light of dawn We can see the shadow Of the ones who’ve gone before, dancing on the meadow To the weary dirge they waltz None of them returning Marching on a darkening road Out of memory hurrying While we draw these fleeting breaths And we crave an answer Always toward the edge we march Flowing ever faster In the twilight we shall float Ever down the river Death will come to steal us all Making life a widow Though the days are hastening on And our hearts are burning “Peace, be still” I hear him say “I’m waiting at the turning I’m waiting at the turning”