• I wake up at phoenix rise
    and am captivated by the subliminal beauty
    of the sky, orange and pink.
    Sun shines red, the devil's eye
    glaring balefully above,
    scorching me under its merciless gaze.

    Every second, minute, and hour
    is spent in profound reverie
    that clouds my eyes with dreamy mist.
    But I am not immune to angst,
    for somewhere, in this damned land,
    a monster has risen from the umbra.

    War, like an angry dragon,
    looms menacingly ahead,
    waiting to shatter this dream of silence.
    God rid me of suspense!
    I can feel every fear of my comarades
    and pray to high Empyrean that I will survive.

    It's past the time to reconcile now,
    the king's eyes, ravenous, are of fire
    and his heart carved of jagged ice.
    We were once the sheep, he the shepard
    who governed us under false justice
    to satiate his selfish desires.

    He sits in grandeur atop his throne
    in the manner of a god.
    At our despair, his laugh resonates
    and each day he tightens those binding chains
    restricting our birthright to freedom.
    This tyrant we pledge to overcome.

    Everything changes lightning-fast.
    Through the gnarled wood I hear
    the Regulars' pompous drums,
    and I can see their uniform, vibrant red
    as they march surely and proudly
    across unknown terrain.

    Their eyes mirror no empathy,
    and their expression haughty.
    This struggle signifies nothing to them
    who were born in that land of monarchy,
    but it means everything to us
    to declare our emancipation.

    As the battle commences, all fear is gone
    to be eclipsed by a mutual contempt.
    Mother, please forgive me if I die,
    I know I promised to come home.
    Realize, though, escape is futile
    when Death is so persistent.

    My eyes see smoke and blood,
    and I hear the roar of muskets,
    piercing the humid air.
    I also hear the scream of death,
    all through out the battlefield.
    But worse, I find it escaping from my throat.

    Screaming, I echo despair
    shivering in pain upon the ground.
    It is pain far beyond anything I've felt,
    burning hot into my flesh,
    hotter than red Sun
    glaring balefully above.

    Current pandemonium has frozen,
    so pain is my only companion
    as my world begins to fade.
    Sudden realization dawns
    that I won't come home alive
    or yet live another hour.

    My consciousness runs free with my blood,
    escaping this doomed body
    yearning to fly.
    Too early my fight is over
    and nothing matters anymore
    as my mind slips into darkness.


    Oh blessed darkness,
    which nullifies the pain,
    free me from this infernal prison!
    I feel myself spiraling through the gyre,
    down to the Dark Abyss.
    Where is the light?

    Blue moon unshrouds the heavy darkness
    penetrating through the window with her pallid light.
    She seems a phantom, so ghostly
    amongst the star-strewn night.
    Her smile is full of sadness,
    and her lurid face dour.

    I can feel the loneliness
    she's suffered since yore.
    I too am lonely.
    I have missed the great exodus,
    the mass departure of souls
    quick to catch the gales to nirvana.

    I feel a sense of guilt as I lay here
    with fire gnawing at my wounds.
    It feels so wrong to be alive,
    though It is only God's will that sometime
    I may walk the bridge to home
    but now seems not His choice.

    The stagnant air is tainted by blood
    shed copiously at Breed Hill.
    All about me is agony,
    yet also triumph.
    We payed the price in blood,
    but how much more men will freedom cost?