While in the midst of lighten sparks
above me,
Sounds of thunder crumbling, rolling down to die,
Hoping to see only replicas of me,
I watch through horrified disembodied eyes.
The long barrels cramp my hands,
Dare I not let go..
Nights befall me, days unfold,
but we're stuck here all about us,
Crimson and gold.
Was it our hearts that you broke,
Or our soles that you stole,
When you sent us here to restore,
Our duty stands before.
We pray for the crying,
The young and the old,
Yours, theirs, and mine,
All of us, just want to come home.
copyright 2007
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