Much sadness hovered when first I woke
What dark intrudes on such a lovely day
to vanquish firm the soaring joy of May.
I walked wooded paths, to few I spoke,
and drawing near to death, began to choke.
With no thought clear, and nothing left to say
I fled that hell and carried you away,
through dreadful stench and charred ghosts in smoke.
In other lands, in sightless times, in dark,
beneath the stacks, where stacked bodies burn
and countless fathers wore the fatal mark
thus leaving daughters nowhere to turn.
But, father mine, this journey now embark
held safe in grateful arms and golden urn.
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