Dawn comes grey and cold
A windy, bone-chilling day.
Raindrops splat on warm grey ash
Left from a festival fire
Caking where the raindrops hit.
The shouts of celebration have died
The people are gone to their beds or their shops
The ashes will go with the rain.

Evening comes grey and cold
At the end of a blood-chilling day.
Raindrops beat on hot grey ash
At the base of a black-charred stake
Caking where the raindrops hit.
The shouts of hate and fear have died
The people have gone to their homes and their beds
The ashes will go with the rain.