The Herald
Through quiet night, the stars are singing
Drowning out the silent crying
That, in my head, is slowly digging
Until the sounds within are mingling
Inside my broken mind
But I spring up without a sound
Although my feet do hit the ground
The sirens, through my blood do pound
The safety gone, we have been found
As whispered prayers fill the air
I am running with, my men at arms
I'm at my post, the shrill alarms
Make me feel so cold, I know that harms
Are harvest here, these bloody farms
Where bodies hide fertile soil
The bullets flying by my face
Are dancing even, full of grace
But since theirs is a heathen pace
These puppets, called the human race
Are cut from out their strings
As all around me brothers fall
My legs give out, I start to crawl
They yell at me, they shout and call
Until they say nothing at all
I am swallowed by the mist
This cloud so thick, I cannot see
What awaits in front of me
But pain is gone, I seem to be
From all my anguish, I am not free
As I slowly stand once more
But why I'm here, I cannot tell
Or why I can't escape this hell
But things are quiet, all seems well
I no longer see all those who fell
In fact I see nothing at all
But is this glorious choir is calling me
From within my own insanity?
No, these heavenly words can't simply be
Something born of war's monstrosity
I do not move my feet
For I am no longer truly here
My pain hath gone, and forth my fear
My eyes can shed no single tear
And all that I held once so dear
Means most nothing to me now
I leave my helmet, corpse and gun
And start my trek towards the sun
That in it's birth, that hath begun
And from our death may songs be sung
May no shadow be kept searching
May no lost ghost stay in the dark
And may time's claws tarnish not our mark
And so my living brothers, hark!
To that lonesome, bravely singing lark
The Herald of the Lost.
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