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Twighlight of the Warrior by Eric Nunnally

 

Bled is my soul
Beneath the glorious color of heaven
And I have held life
And made death upon the passions of men

The grass is torn up
Where my feet have dug into the mud
And there is no voice but the wind
Brushing through my eyelashes
Which sting with sweat

I have been called a demon on the battlefield
Mindlessly resolute in the destruction of my enemy
And have seen the flags waving above the corpses
I have smelled the meat of the wounded
And mourned many a brother

Where there was once a green field
Speckled with butterflies
There is only the carnage of war
Heaped in piles strewn everywhere

In the end I keep the souls of the warriors slain
And believe in my own way
And let go a tear
Missing the dream that was life


May 25, 2004





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