Over mountains has
My smoke drifted
Into the eyes of those
Who cry for their dead.
Yea, my smoke has sifted
Through the trees that ring the dead.
Over seas
My tender heart is lifted
Unto the animals of man,
Crying for their father.
Yea, my tender heart is broken
As Adam’s animals upon his sin.
With my sons I made the clearing
In horror to recoil,
Yea my smoke had drifted
To a battle plane unknown,
Broken jutting erected graves
Lying over bone.
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I like how you describe Adam's animals mourning over him. I didn't see that coming, but it's certainly effective.
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