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  Nation
Transplanted
by
Emil
Jacob
Someone is calling
from the trains of death
from Europe burning in the abyss,
no one can hear the final breath,
nation of blessings,
nation of curses,
no one will miss...
Someone is crying
behind barbed wire,
no one is there to wave good-bye,
the final departure, the last tear
quietly rises above chimneys,
into the heavens
asking why...
Decades later,
someone is mourning
at a headstone without a grave.
Someone is calling a whispered prayer
to innocents fallen in the inferno
of burning shame:
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Sleep in
peace, nation transplanted,
you have departed far and high,
hear the music we always sing,
fear no more the flames of evil,
close your eyes, youíll live forever,
with all the love
from the King of Kings!
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