This piece was based on a poem by Vahan Teryan

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Weep, weep, my Muse

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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.

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

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

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