(Passing By) An Old And Raped Village

Through boughs and leaves and stone on ground
I feel a presence of evil, a silent sound
An evil place once lovely and fair
Its gardens are grey, sad voices of despair

A village old, pillaged and raped
All the houses are rotten or burnt
Here are signs of battles of old
Raided for the virgins and their gold
From where cometh this evil air?
This pressing warning of danger