Someday the land will subside beneath the sea
Hiding the rocks that Hiroshima was built on.
But the shadows printed on stone will remain
Someday the ocean will again cover the land
That once held up the chimneys of Auschwitz
But the ashes will still be there, between layers
Someday water will again cover
Srbenica and Sarajevo, Rwanda and Cambodia.
But the blood stains will not be washed away
The earth itself will move, in vain.
Our songs are better bandages for our self-inflicted wounds
Than dirt or water.
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