Vanishing Point
By Everett A Warren
September 12, 1991
Whispers cry through the grey and lonely forests of barren trees
Who have long shed the burden of their life-giving leaves,
One more time I cry to the moon as the armies gather in the darkness.
All the hopes of war's ending fly away on Summer's Wings,
All the hostile dreams float on a cool Winter's breeze,
And now I stand defiant and bold to fight off the changing seasons.
There beyond the rise I hear the heavy breathing,
A mist that rises in the cold evening air with each rise and fall,
And rasping in the still light lies the enemy of reason.
There beyond the rise I hear the snow crush beneath the tread,
The pine needles crackle softly as the stranger puts them to the fire,
And my comrades in arms withdraw to wait for darkness once more.
Who has succumbed to sleep so easily since invading my lands,
Who are you who curls up to the heat to find warmth.
Circle beyond, lads, and wait for the darkness,
When the flames are to embers, as the sun to a distant star, we will strike,
Circle beyond and be still and the enemy will be ours.
There beyond the rise I hear the sighing of the flames expire,
A fire untended weaves its ending in concordance with our desire,
And my comrades in arms attack in darkness once more.
And after the blood has been shed and runs in steaming rivers,
After the silence falls and snow falls from the sky we move into the night.
Circle beyond, lads, and hide in darkness,
Across the plains, across the mountains, a new home awaits,
Circle beyond mankind and find peace for awhile.
Copyright (c) 1991 Everett A Warren