Cold Symphony

In red skies of fire, cold symphonies play
For no one's desire of music to hear,
But old notes of death their insanity lay
While breaking and waking in men all their fear.

A shivering wind slowly opens the eyes
Of those that still are and a merciless rain
With violence kills all invisible ties
Of memories lost in the lingering pain.

Yet hope still remains in some innocent hearts,
That glance for a way to escape a cruel fate,
As no one remembers the promise that starts
The battle, when all are for living too late.

But no one remains, as the skies are still red,
And all that has started from hope is a lie,
For old notes of death never cease to be led
To men who are breaking, who wonder and die.