B’hava’el

The Prophets protect our home
From their Celestial Temple above.

We watched those stars,
We collected their Tears,
For 26 hours a day, for years

We know the Prophets,
They speak to their chosen.

We love the Prophets,
They’ve sated our fears,
For 26 hours a day, for years.

When the slavers came,
We lost our lives.

We mine their ore,
They laugh at our tears,
For 26 hours a day, for years.

We lost the chosen,
No more came forward.

We can’t hear the Prophets,
They can’t hear our fears,
For 26 hours a day, for years.

When our home was finally spent,
We were no longer slaves.

We stood tall again,
Our lives in arrears,
For 26 hours a day, for years.

Once free, though standing with help,
The Prophets finally returned.

They came not for us,
But for those now called peers,
For 24 hours a day, for years.

The prophets can have them,
We know we don’t need them.

We’ll rebuild our lives,
We’ll shed no more tears,
For 26 hours a day, for years.