ETS

I watched them come in numbers,
Bodies torn and shattered
Day upon day;
With wild eyes and
Bloodied strangled cries,
They came to face the beast.
The fetid smell of death
On the angry dragon’s breath
Did show no mercy nor peace.
No knightly savior,
Sword of life in hand,
Riding nigh.
This…
and only this…
To watch them slowly die.

The Last War

When the last soldier falls
In the very last war,
That’s where you will
Find them gathered;
On the battlefield of
The final triumph.

Their restless souls
Will claim lasting rest
Peacefully waiting
Upon the earth
Where once they lived
And died.

No more sorrow…
No more broken hearts.
A river of souls as one
In victorious song;
As the final bugle calls
When the last soldier falls.
When the last soldier falls.

Doc Rich R

Stolen Youth

Our youth was tested
all those many years ago
when the boys we were
faced the mortality
of the men we were to be.

In the chaos that lurked
just beyond the wire,
The mayhem of bitter tribulation
waited in ambush,
calling for us by name…
beckoning for our very souls.

Deaths Black Angel
would pass in a rush of indifference;
his cold, icy fingers reaching
for the warmth of Life itself;
our youthful spirits forever wounded
by the vulgar stench of war.

Time has become entangled
in the oppressive barbed wire silence.
stilled by the need for penance,
it tortures the heart and spirit;
wanting only the peaceful refuge
of holy absolution.

Let our sorrows and tears
fall upon their granite names,
those many faces we knew.
Friends made…
Friends lost.
God shed your Grace on thee.

This was our stolen youth
those many years ago
when the men we were
walked with death and insanity
on the fine line of madness.

Doc Rich R