Cry. this gray morning -
They found a thousand good men here.
You are nothing. not even a name.
We throw the light
Of your death to the sky.

(should we go down. out of your lives.
Biting upon our tongues:
Build us a village in praise.
And never forget how we lived.)

Violet shadows the ground.
Yesterday was the burning day.
Grief is the hammer of god.
Soft light should have enveloped you.
Suck in the burning air.
Dry and searing your tongue.
Fall and become one.
One of the shades of dawn.

(we have learned to offer the light.)

Skin like candles red.
Melting before your eyes.
Sever the seed from hope.
Dying for the lack of wings.

(oh, love we'll fly away.
Sweet air beneath us.
Sure, it's true - we are ghosts of hell.
Shorn of flesh. but i think i see the sun.
Far away cold now.
In the garden of delights.
Where are we now, if not dead?)

Give us no dreams but for this:
One shallow grave filled with
Our brothers and sons.
With slit throats. on broken knees.
Whispering prayers.