Ise Doden (Ice Death)
On frozen fields of horror
Where hordes of briars grow
The dead forever speak
Of crimes the world has known
Deep down in their trenches
Where legions make their graves
Angels rise in choirs
Through the mortar rain
The dawn on the horizon
Shrouded in the ice
No hope for tomorrow
In their lifeless eyes
Defender of self-righteous thought
And atomic faith
With a shout and burst of rounds
A soldier earns his pay
Another steps up to the gate
And to Saint Michael said
“Another one reporting sir
I’m ready to join the dead”
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment