Glory
Soldiers walk as shallow graves
In a civilian dream I cannot be seen
But I see them as I move opposite their army tide
They retreat past me--
along me,
through me
Unaware of where I am
Their bandages-- shredded and bloodied--flail like tattered flags
The burst of cannons--the billows of smoke
I see death's wait in sunken eyes
Broken arms, broken knees--one wounded man holding up another
In deformed march they walk the bridge
The swelling river of blood beneath their dying feet
I float above
My dream wings lift me\\\
Across the bridge I see---the wounded march of men is eternal
The shallow graves of their youths,
pierced by arrows,
severed;
torn by mortar and guns
The glory is that crossing to salvation
Where once again they are young and not aged by war
Where life revives them
Where they rise up, the bloody bridge behind
I awake and gasp
War and the other side, all in a dream. All in a dream.
I hear the news, a bridge of fallen soldiers.
I awake and gasp once more...the glory and salvation, the glory and salvation!