When? Now soon

Torn apart at last
Countries old will go
Bilbao, don't be stuck in past
It's time to go
And drift on mid-Atlantic snow

Like shards of shattered glass they last?
But no, like crumbs of earth they fall
Into the salty sea the mirth of bats
Follows crumbs wallow, try to run
As salty syrup swallows nearly every one

While some split to meet the deep
Even sooner yet some
Decide to disband their grief
And like band of robbers
Stick together with pockets of air

To delay their death each day by one day more
Wonder more and more how these lucky few
Rise against their past and

Frown down instincts lasts in others and 'stead
From a deeper well

Draw the water that puts out hell
And they will drift but reach the other side
Where no cry reaches throne unanswered
Where every pain and fear has its other,

Gentler side.