He’s been long absent, in absent non-bliss,
Beneath the clouds they’ve forgotten his face.
The moon bends down, on his cheek plants a kiss.
By her light he’s able to find his place.
But what place is his that he can call home?
Those he once knew turn away from his call.
Back to the road this one returns alone.
His brother, not he, they wanted home, tall.
It wasn’t his fault, though he blames himself;
He, the only one to escape the flames.
They’ll be no mountain into which he’ll delve,
There will be no bed in which he’ll long stay.
He will only have a path to wander.
He will only have moonlight to ponder.
This one is about a soldier returning home from war where his brother died. His friends and family sadly resent him for surviving wishing for his brother to be alive instead. Outcast and alone, he is forced to wander the rest of his days.
Walking among the wastes of war
Asking the air: “What for?”
Among the dead and decaying corruption,
I see a pillar, a hallucination.
On the pillar I see inscribed:
“This is for what we have died.
Death, the lord of war,
Tells us its worth fighting for
But for this it’s not worth dying
And our families for us are pining.
Now lost forever in this waste
Our souls are spread like a paste
Over this dead and dying land
Cause someone didn’t see what was at hand.
They disregard our cries for help
Then watch us die while they can’t help
But sit and think upon their mistakes
Then greed will, their guilt take
And tell them it was just a few,
For the gain of me and you.
They do not value anyone’s life.
They are not killed with a knife.
And to you who reads this now,
Never to greed should you bow.
Never fight for something you don’t believe in,
Never to your greed give in.
For it will be paid for by anothers life
And you will never die by knife.”
After reading this I walked away
From the pillar and the decay
Of war and what it had destroyed,
From death and what it had employed.
And now today I bring my son
To the edge of what war had done.
Walking among the wastes of war,
Asking the air: “What for?”
Among the dead and decaying corruption
We see a pillar, a hallucination,
On the pillar we see inscribed:
“This is for what we have died…”
And you wonder:
“What am I fighting for?
What am I dying for?”
Then suddenly it dawns on you.
I am on the wrong side.
I am out of place.
I’m fighting for what they believe in.
Now I realize what my father had shown me so many years before.
This and these are the wastes of war.
Death is just trying to get more
Of what it already has.
Slowly I walked through that depressing town.
It was not much more than ruins this place,
Here the children cried and each of them frowned.
Everywhere sorrow could be seen on each face.
Under a pile of rubble there lay,
A skeleton of a flying fortress.
I saw many broken forms there that day.
And God, to many, a quick death did bless.
Then I remembered the field that I left,
wholly horrible, and devoid of life,
None were spared from battle, on rocky cleft
The innocent, the soldier, shared the same strife.
Through that field and town, this soldier then came.
With me in my dreams they’ll ever remain.