What is there to hope for when all hope is gone?
To stand alone on a mountain side waiting
Waiting for the signs, a flare cutting through the mist in the distance,
A faint echo of something unexplained
A time, a place, a face, now buildings
Rotten and crumbling, loose stones
Of something once solid, real and alive

Those scratches in the stone were the remnants
The last marks that could be made
That came through like a coded message
But what is left when no one answers the call
The flare lights up the sky for a moment
Brilliant flashing, bare naked light, loud and defiant
Silencing the wolves as they cry to one another
That is how we know, when we don’t know
How to get through to the other-side