Beneath a Grey Sky

There is a presence in the air
That whispers to us all.
There is something calling to us all.
There may yet be daylight before nightfall.

And yet all who walk along
Beneath the beckoning sky
Pay no attention really.
They listen, they blink. They move on and the message sinks.

There ain’t much left that’s really dear
Except all they’ve been told to fear,
While the multitudes march on, choosing to listen and failing to hear.