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.