The distant city overlooks your grace
Strange angels make your strong, unyielding form
And while, alone, you make a tragic case
I'd trust in you that you'd weather the storm
Was there ever a face inside the dark?
Did crooked windows help to let in light?
Was your owner awakened by the lark?
In wartime were you shattered in the fight?

The city, cruel and charmless, seems to be
Determined to forget your lonely past
But we are prey to our own history
What once was there, may now return, at last
Would you desire life to be lived in there?
Or would you claim that solitude's more fair?