…out in the fields

…out in the fields

…out in the fields

..just a word about the last little bit I wrote. Yes it should remind you of in Flanders fields and yes it was written that way on purpose. Trying to tie those acts of bravery and feeling of loss in with the bravery and lost feeling I see in the veterans of todays conflicts. survivors that come home dont always come all the way home. These Kings deserve crowns.

I had a soldier friend once and Gordie was his name…

…somewhere in the fields..

In foggy dark  places…lines row in row, the courageous left lying with one final blow.. reaching for freedom we some how lost grip…once all on high, how sacrifice rips..

we are the living..

from hells palaces we came to welcome us home to places we loved we no longer roam ..To the hells mouth we’re born and hellmouth  we’re drown… every beauty has rotted in this place where were found

We are the dead…
once we lived freely and gave of ourselves, freedom  our safety now stored up on shelves.

You say that you have… no more to give, our lives weren’t enough, we have no more to live.. hellish broad landscapes of memory held dear, the blood was left there… the war rages here.I love you my darling my red white and red, I loved you so much but now I am…..

my souls left on fire and matches the beat the drums left there drumming but death missed this street. Alone in the shallow I ponder this place, thought and all memories of beauty and grace. Lifted on high to sound of the call, now left here alone to stare at these walls.
How proudly and eager I signed on that line, threw on my armor, my axe sharpened fine.. off to the front and into the fight, fuck your emotions and swallow the fright. Plans of the future, the laughter of fate..life left in neutral.. to no future date..Left there now bleeding…that man was my friend…screams crying torture were all there at his end.. replaced with no place no  where to run, I love you my darling but these ghosts are no fun.. They pull in the hours where rest has escaped, with one final pull they’ve finally pulled off my cape… final resting his head with trigger below, this soldiers watch over… but no one will know…

HAIL!! To long life, and all passions that grow… in that old field left empty… where poppies still blow….

🖤 from Valhalla…