Alone, I hear a voice so young
Who comes from a time so old
Whose words have haunted me
For so long

Hidden in night’s dark shade
Covered from gazing eyes
Heard only by the wind
A ghost that wanders the night

In the night, it calls out aloud to me
And it cries
To face the anguish of the dead
Of a child so torn

Taken from a mother’s hands
The flesh, long lifeless, decays
The soul, that rises, aware
A ghost now deadens the air

Neque avelli possunt, nox umida donec invertit caelum stellis ardentibus aptum
"And they cannot tear themselves away till the dewy night rolls round the heaven, inset with gleaming stars" (Virgil, Aeneid, Book XI, 201)