Red

Through clouds of gray and seas of Red

I struggle forth, to bring Me back

Though now indeed with bloodied head

Resound, I shall, to not to lack

My nation, barren in this hushed musk

Summer awakens, ignites the cold

As ahead now draws to black’ning dusk

They strut aforth, timidly bold

They march to attack the preciousness of sound

I cannot have that, not mine be bowed

I shall to not to lack Resound

For of by free and thus endowed

This War of ideology, brought unfortunate this day

Where few are dead and wounded, a life is but a name

This dusty mess hath ruined now the pleasures of my stay

And I, in my still dying self, freely of this (game.

Time marched on through decades of April

Forgotten, scarred, on untouched shelf in this it doth resign

But time Won’t erase the scARS on my brow, or the smirk of victory]

For march I longer earth no more, better, than The line