The blood of my people
The Blood Of My People This prison holds me tight, The sunlight sears my soul. Corpses rise beneath me. Angels fall above me. Bodies fall to the ground A mix of blood and steel A lovely blade of grass Or the blade of a sword, Bites deeply in my flesh. Crimson blood spills from me. An incandescent light flies high above the sky The army of the dead Is that of which I serve My soul belongs to you I’ll give you all I’ve got For I’ve lost what I’ve sought Amber red dies the sand: On the line of the land. Father, Son, Holy Ghost Three men died here today The three men rise again To slay the wicked sin. The Heroic campaigns Of one man standing tall March across the wasteland Into another realm Sing and praise mighty men Of the ages long gone Though their strength kept them long In the end they still lost.
| I wrote this one at work one day. Someone asked me what I was doing and I read it to them. I ended up having a very detailed conversation with them for almost and hour. |