Ashes
They were soldiers, my soldiers in the alley way
Fought to live and to die and to breathe a new day
Christened in the burial cloths of urine-laced rags
Found shelter and home in the forgotten lost bags
Under the tombstone of the graffiti drawn cement
Their tears drenched them, their own, in the hostile advent
Scarred by the gunshots embed in their skin
Faces, masked and beaten, appearing like sin
Lullabies to sleep- forever turning their times
Whistling of doorways, like broken wind chimes
Bloody streams trickle through the broken stone
A mother with children, by the fire- alone
What were their dreams? What cradled their pain?
When all that is good, is forgotten in rain
It falls and would fall, as cold as its heart
Shattered like mirror, was tempered to part
In their darkness, the shadow danced in the night
Ballerina, Ballerina, whose hand is in light
The fire burned and it burned like coils in debris
The ships to gather the bodies has come in from sea
Demons screaming and slaughtered the souls with pain
The tears fell and they quivered into the alley and lane
Men cried and they cried when their spouses were turned
Wile the gathering flames- they burned and they burned
When it was the flicker- the moon didnt see
While the ashes piled up inside of me
Mother saw them, she knew them and cried
She embraced me that night when father had died
We were there, to put the rose in his hand
We were there to kiss, and to pocket his sand
They were fathers and mothers and children to some
Most dead at the old and few of the young
Dreaming- perishing into the northern of sky
Falling- victim to the rumor and the lie
Abandoned by the givers, forsaken by all
All home, and all rest, lies under this wall
Ballad of the dying blood in dying ways
In the pockets of puddles where the child plays
Memoirs of the shattered roses, in their cure
Their gently caressing every pain, every tear
Burned by the warmth- scarred by the slice
Of there hellish home, surrenders upon ice
I sat at the fire, with my mother beside
Gazing upon the shadows of all those whove died
Empty bottles over the oven top, chipped and broken
Death brought to my brother- who hardly has spoken
The fire burned and it burned- the ashes up and in flame
My hell and your hell, is perishing all of the same
They were soldiers, my soldiers in the alley way
Fought to live and to die and to breathe a new day
Christened in the burial cloths of urine-laced rags
Found shelter and home in the forgotten lost bags
Under the tombstone of the graffiti drawn cement
Their tears drenched them, their own, in the hostile advent
Scarred by the gunshots embed in their skin
Faces, masked and beaten, appearing like sin
Lullabies to sleep- forever turning their times
Whistling of doorways, like broken wind chimes
Bloody streams trickle through the broken stone
A mother with children, by the fire- alone
What were their dreams? What cradled their pain?
When all that is good, is forgotten in rain
It falls and would fall, as cold as its heart
Shattered like mirror, was tempered to part
In their darkness, the shadow danced in the night
Ballerina, Ballerina, whose hand is in light
The fire burned and it burned like coils in debris
The ships to gather the bodies has come in from sea
Demons screaming and slaughtered the souls with pain
The tears fell and they quivered into the alley and lane
Men cried and they cried when their spouses were turned
Wile the gathering flames- they burned and they burned
When it was the flicker- the moon didnt see
While the ashes piled up inside of me
Mother saw them, she knew them and cried
She embraced me that night when father had died
We were there, to put the rose in his hand
We were there to kiss, and to pocket his sand
They were fathers and mothers and children to some
Most dead at the old and few of the young
Dreaming- perishing into the northern of sky
Falling- victim to the rumor and the lie
Abandoned by the givers, forsaken by all
All home, and all rest, lies under this wall
Ballad of the dying blood in dying ways
In the pockets of puddles where the child plays
Memoirs of the shattered roses, in their cure
Their gently caressing every pain, every tear
Burned by the warmth- scarred by the slice
Of there hellish home, surrenders upon ice
I sat at the fire, with my mother beside
Gazing upon the shadows of all those whove died
Empty bottles over the oven top, chipped and broken
Death brought to my brother- who hardly has spoken
The fire burned and it burned- the ashes up and in flame
My hell and your hell, is perishing all of the same
