There the death rings hollow. There the slumber slowly falls. Hope reeling, truth raging just below the eery calm. Waters to drown the death of me and wash clean enough for dove to fall. Descent, new life to dry and dusty lands. Here the hope runs screaming, moving door to door. Hear the hope is clanging, loud as church bells from high atop hills. Hear, that death rings hollow as we move beyond the fall.