![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
:: Updated 22 Aug 2003 : All Rights Reserved : The Journeyman :: | ||||||||||||||
:: Song For the Dead :: | |||||||||||||||
:: My Poetry : My Musings : My Favourites : My Journal : My Email :: | |||||||||||||||
![]() |
Deafening cries, shell bombings. explosions Changed what could have been a cool quiet night Into a bloody landscape. Confusion Disorientation, chaoes, nothing's right War weary, tired, with me, he rested For a moment.... seemed like eternity I know that his will to live is tested Amist the tumult, the calamity Catching his breath, he took hold of my hand Bloodied red, yet he took it, kissed it Tonight, although we are from different lands Our bond burns bright, like when a flame is lit And when the first ray shone, he breathed his last His smile remained, his hand with me, still The dawn breeze blows, and even until dusk Two foe-turned-friends and friends they 'ever will. |
||||||||||||||
![]() |
|||||||||||||||
![]() ![]() ![]() |