The Flashing Blade

Make good the powder, fear not the day. The darkest pitch will lead the way.
The horses hooves sound thunder roar. The passing of the day runs fore.
With steely glance and sword held tight, with flashing blade in grabs of white
We see the general stand above, his soldiers with their hearts they love.

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The clouds roil dark with ominous haste, the fields turn green no time to waste
The smell of powder fills the air, no more to cry no more to care
With sights set on the future days, the past grows dark as memory fades
The once proud general lays him down, the flashing blades, the hospital gown.
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These stories that this general tells, of pirates, caves and wishing wells
His once bright eyes now milky pale, the wind has lost its will to sail
So gather round all soldiers dear, for these last words we long to hear
I love you children, you have to know, lament no more, for I need to go.
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For My Dad

 


4 thoughts on “The Flashing Blade

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