A trace of peace only granted by solitude,
An understanding only delivered by tragedy,
When words cannot touch the meaning of something so underestimated,
So misunderstood.

Hold tranquility in your heart,
But anger in your mind,
While you attempt to feel something
That you could never interpret.

As cold as a desert storm,
As powerful as wishing,
We will never understand, so we ask,
"Why dont the dead continue living?"