This piece was based on a poem by Vahan Teryan

Weep, weep, my Muse

Mourn, mourn, my muse. No one else mourned
those who fell and fall unnoticed one and all.
Out of their cold lives endlessly they fell
on alien fields.

Like prematurely dying leaves
the uncounted lost fall without a sound,
dried blood that might ignite
with revenge in time.

They pass hearing the distant call
to take up arms while
their unspent fury waits to scorch
the sea, the earth and sky.

Weep, weep, my muse. No one else
mourned this unmarked crime.
Let your poems and tears try
calling the world to account.

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