A man dies on the old-fashioned battlefield and gains perspective. |
The Soldier’s Death I always thought Death would be a woman, Graced in silken, shining white, Bones visible through her garments, Her embrace my final night. I thought her kiss would be the scythe Which pierced my heart, which ended the fight That I had fought for every day Until her dance would change my sway. But vision of visions, I saw a cold star, Which led me to my death. I died for my dearest of friends. On the battlefield, in strife, I saw him defenseless, But I bore the knife, Inside my flesh That had been meant for him. I left my life For the sake of a man. I left my wife For the sake of a whim. And as I passed the world and fell, I saw the friend I had defended killed. On the battlefield, scores of men, Joined once in life now joined again. We remembered old lives, We mourned for our weeping wives, But we saw a star, Once faded, now not far. We followed the star, It was the tunnel to peace And through it was the key To a world without wars: Eternity. |