Darkness grows, and storm wind blows,
Time’s cold blast, goes fiercely past,
The engineer on the rail-
His bright eyes glow, intelligence knows,
That violent storm, of mindless form,
Could crush us in the gale-
What hands have made, by will we’ve saved,
With steadfast dreams, the future gleams,
The building our reward-
To men he gave, a road to pave,
A bridge to build, an iron will,
Between the acts of war-
He stood between, the death machine,
Our future’s stead, was in his head,
Rebuilt upon the dust-
With directed toil, we drilled for oil,
Showed we could, together would,
Reclaim our holy trust-
Impetus to stand, on blackened land,
With reasons to sing, bells will ring,
As proclamation of our joys-
Air soon cleared, with nothing feared,
Children grew tall, by our loving call,
With flowers as their toys-
But engineers know, that morrows grow,
On life today, death has it’s way,
And soon our memory is lost-
For all our tasks, will surely pass,
Dark shadows climb, long past our time,
No matter what the cost-
Winds still blow, our freedom low,
A moment still, can take our will,
Imbued regrets least we forget-
Those peace-full days, and gentle ways,
Will blinds our sight, insidious delight,
When once our minds are set.
Engineers know, that cold winds blow,
Time erodes, and dreams explode,
The strongest of thoughts will bend-
Roofs will fall, on every hall,
Paid with sweat, and blood, and mud,
For the mortar to build again-
Flags will burn, and reason spurn,
Dreams will die, glories will lie,
Through cracked and bleeding ken-
But there’s a price, that rolls the dice,
For spring’s return, with what is learned,
Engineers will build again-
It’s in the plan, the ways of man,
Each time is spent, generations rent,
For what each has to learn-
But time will call, when each time falls,
A new day draws, universal laws,
For something new to burn.
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