by Edward Alan Bartholomew
Breezes blowing in the night Distant noises, out of sight Darkness blinds all those who see Who sought escape and fought to flee "Through the trees, on past the stream Feeling lonely, it may seem But turn my back to turn my head Deep paranoia in my stead" This soldier's fists both shake and twist The handle of his gun He duly missed and had not wist The presence of the sun Breezes blowing in the night Distant flash, impending fright Darkness mends their evil ways For all who travel, all who stay "Past the stream, on through the trail My lonliness seemed to prevail But in the night's dead pitch of black I was shot down from the back" This soldier's blood mixed with the mud Upon a foreign ground He did not feign the scarlet rain Nor utter any sound Breezes blowing 'fore the noon Distant smoke fades like the moon Darkness decamps with the night The sun shines with grave rays of light "On through the trail, I reached the field But this is where my fate is sealed The bloody stream, flowing red Before I know it, I'll be dead" |
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