Photo

He has been traveling for days
With only a photograph as proof he had a home and a wife
At every crowded station
He chooses a new horizon and braces himself against the cold
Once his land was not gray but green
There was only a high season He lived in a paradise
But now that it is groaning under war
He has fled that homeland With only a photograph as proof

He’s been traveling for weeks
With only a photograph as proof that he had an origin
He looks at it every night
And runs a finger along her hair though the picture becomes yellowed and dull
The war is under his skin
If he closes his eyes for a moment he hears the echoes of screams
There was danger in every heartbeat
And that’s why he had to get away from her With only a photograph as proof

He’s been traveling for months
With only a photo as proof but with love as a compass
And where she is now he doesn’t know
But right through every devastated area she points the way to who he was
He’s waiting for her She’s waiting for him
Someday he’ll hear her sweet voice again Someday they’ll lie in the grass again
His journey is coming to an end
That photo gives him proof He has love as a compass