i dreamt of a house on a hill,

behind the headstones

shinning coldly in the gloom,

holding forever the hardy old bones

of sad, lost

children of god.

i would have truly loved to know them.

i saw what was lost.

remnants flutter in the breeze,

against the chemical, red sunset

of the dying day,

stinging with smog and disease

and the swiftly broken dreams

of freedom and relief

from the

cold, staring, black machine

formed from men's hands by natures heartless flame.

the air is warm with longing

for better, unknown days.

i remembered the river,

flowing swiftly in the dawn.

It goes on forever,

dragging away what longs to stay,

remaining wide and free,

clear of all debris,

cept those sunk and lost in the bottom.

past the factories and the farms,

people sleeping in their homes and in the streets,

she flows forever on.