Lay my bones to rest Overwhelming emptiness Convulsive throes deny my breath Faintest utterance to fading thought In the gasp of death Lost along the road Weary traveller, this day was foretold Through the grey haze The weight of years Reflection fades We stumble into the darkness The prodigal son returns But brings only death His nature, a lamentation And knows only loss Through vacant light Torches burn in the night Lain amongst the elders A tomb of stone, where once stood your home Our house is dead We shall build it again But our home is gone And the world burns on I watched thee When fever glazed thine eyes When overworn with watching Never to rise From thence If thou And early grave Hadst found.