Cry for the Dead
Posted By: Walker<likethisismyemail@hotmail.com>
Date: 12 October 2003, 8:16 PM
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Why? The blood of thousands In rivers that flow through empty lands Burnt and charred from the sky
Why? The torn bodies The children and the wives And the men that they depended upon
Why? For gods? For country? For glory? For survival? For nothing?
Why? Why the destruction of thousands Innocents caught in the crossfire Innocents whom the fire was trained upon
Why? Why must the children suffer for the hate? Why must they die and cry and feel pain? All because of the gods who command their destruction?
Why? Is it right that those who have offered no offense That those who have done nothing but cower Is it right that they be the subject of massacre?
Why? What gods would command such a thing? What Prophets would see it done? What insanity has gripped them?
Why? The question rings silent in the ears of the dead They hear no more Peace is upon them by a manner so terrible
Why? Why have the gods of the enemy condemned us to die? Why have they decided that we must be destroyed? Why have they brought down their sword?
Is it not enough that we run? Is it not enough that we cry? Is it not enough that with every landing That only the dead remain?
Why? Why do they kill us? Why do they slaughter the defenseless? By what craft do they hate so passionately?
Oh, why, Absalom? Oh why the dead? What Covenant with the gods Has commanded this destruction?
Why? Oh, these gods that you follow So terrible in their wrath Wrought from a throne of fire and sulfur
Why? Why follow a path of destruction That in the end condemns all to death? Why wage this holy war upon the meek?
Why? We fight valiantly But why is it not enough? Why is it not enough, God?
Why? Why, God, does our valiance And our courage earn nothing but sorrow And a horribly failing defense?
Why? Why not send us an angel? An angel of death? An angel of mercy?
Why? Why does this angel deliver us not? Why does the angel descend so slowly From his side at your throne?
Does he not see That his sword and spear With the holy blood dripping Are needed in the children's last hour?
And now the chariot descends From the heavens in a cloud Of gathering flame And through the flame we see
A figure in armor Brilliant in the fire that surrounds the angel His chariot is pulled by steeds of molten bronze And the gods of the enemy cower at his approach
But as he touches his wheels to the Earth A blot of lightning Jagged and sharp Strikes and fells the angel of death
The deliverer falls from the cliffs And falls and falls into the void Never to rise again The deliverer has been felled by the enemy gods
And throughout all the Earth A cry is taken up Terrible and wailing and long and lamenting A Cry for the Dead
The Earth is obliterated As a fire more terrible than that of God Rains down upon the earth The swarms of the enemy purge the lands
The survivors are tossed into the void The children, the wives, the men The dead are burned in a holy fire That rises from Hell
Years pass The Earth trembles As the last of the enemy blasts away From the surface now desolate
Smoke rises in pitch black clouds Staining the sky that was once blue The land is damaged Beyond the repair that ages can provide
Deep in the void The angel of death awakes He searches the dark And girds upon himself the armor of God
Deep in the void The angel of death awakens his comrades The search the dark And take up their arms
Deep in the void The last of God's children The resurrected dead Plot their revenge on the gods of the enemy
And the Cry for the Dead Terrible and lamenting Is heard once more Upon the Earth
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