Yorke

Perpetual Motion

Life,

its own battle,

the empty can, 

the endless rattle.


I find myself wandering through the graveyards of my mind,
embedded with the history of the heroes that I find.

 

In darkest hour,
and
deepest fear,
I search,
I find companions here.


A time my mortal soul can feel,
a time to harvest flesh with steel...

 

...and all time is now.




With heavy heart
I read your stone,
Soldier Boy,
Twenty One
and where has all your future gone.

This place I sit,
where lovers wept,
of parent\'s tears
and vigils kept,
a place where heroes never stepped.

and I forever in your debt.