All  Fall Together

Survivors set out on a trail in a search for salvation Looking for remnants of sense in the end of a nation

Good words

What are we to say at this time? What possibly can meet the faces of sadness the wail of grief that sounds before our gathering our youth has passed our hands are worn. Yet we wish to be heard.

It is not for us the weak to weep. We are not to turn away.  Let us not stand idly by and hear no more that voice of guidance of such great magnitude.  That fire upon a mountainside.

If we have nothing but the weak sun in wintertime, a beating heart and a shining eye, let us not despair. Let us be proud.  It is as best we can be. Let our hearts rejoice, our voices be heard.  Yet I know there is a place within our hearts where the spirits join. We search and find our nations end. Alba. So let me hear again that great nation speak through those songs. Songs of such beauty of such honesty, to hear those sentiments is to stand upon the very soil of the kingdom.

The emotion provoked within is more than reason itself to cast aside any doubt as to the love and respect we hold for the man who fashioned
and crafted those songs. His guiding hand touched us all. That Brilliance of wisdom still a piercing light against the long days of sadness.

Here I stand before you. I have no care for any riches for they have no place in the honesty of passion and belief.   What I have to proffer is my utter respect and admiration for the late Mr Stuart Adamson. I know that time within my life when his very words held me high above a storm
of despair and wanting. That time of happiness of rejoice of discovery. I was fed by his genius, his notions of justice of fairness. They are the marks of a great person and I like so many are blessed that we heard Mr Adamson and Big Country impart such true richness.

“Nemo dat quod non habet”  You cannot give what you do not have. For I only have the hand of friendship, respect, and love for Mr Adamson. Alas I never had the chance to offer him my hand. How I wish I had.

I write these words for such a difficult time with a great sadness within. Tonight I will hear his voice and those songs. They will never leave my
side. Some will smile yet others weep. I know above all that in our darkness the house on fire will never hold any shame.  Let us return home again.

May God Bless you Mr Adamson, For you the weary will rise again.

By Anis Waiz

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