SunnyStereoSound

Through the ages, through the years, I wonder what these shoulders could bear. A lifetime of love followed by another of woe You become a needle to stitch and sew The Fate's threads are never ending, Your eyes keep depending On your ability to foresee You always know what will be. Your words and rhymes prophesize, The same days and years you have come to despise. Until you realise. It is different this time. There is you and there is me. And we are what will always be.

Through the ages, through the years, I wonder what these shoulders could bear. A lifetime of love followed by another of woe You become a needle to stitch and sew The Fate's threads are never ending, Your eyes keep depending On your ability to foresee You always know what will be. Your words and rhymes prophesize, The same days and years you have come to despise. Until you realise. It is different this time. There is you and there is me. And we are what will always be.

Warning bells; they ring. Louder.  Louder like a banshees dying lament. Shrieking.  Louder.  It had been foretold but I did not believe it. How could it be possible?  Run to the window. People are panicking, scarpering like a blind gaggle of geese through my tiny cobbled street. I need to run. I need quiet. I want the light chatter of a market day to return, although it will not. I need safety. I need to run. Where will mother and father be? Fathers forge? The market? My newlywed sister's home? Will they come back for me? Should I find them? The gap between the bells shortens. The melodies of angels overcome by a devilish din of death that s