In a broken world, built from shattered stones and ripped lands,
must the healer know the pain and feel the loneliness on which he must walk?
In a broken world, inhabited by torn people and splintered love,
must the healer know the anguish and feel the loss which she must embrace?
In the numb silence and the sleepless nights,
broken healer stand and hold my hand.
In the hollow grief and empty dreams,
broken healer stand and hold my hand.
In the sorrow bring new joy,
In the ending bring new hope.
PICTURA POESIS 