The translucent streams of smoke
Seeping slowly to the open sky
The voices of yesterday soon melt
The fever is broken
Magic's rhythm surrounds you
Sacred, too like ice to melt
Soon, the child will go
Who trusts the words to linger?
You think you know, yet hearts will melt
Though yesterday never questions the words of time
The child must wear the heart of peace
Voices of yesterday
The broken, I trust, never would melt.