Galvenir Poems The Soldier
There was a time of constant war,
A time of raging flame,
The world was struck deep in its core,
To turn to whence it came.
ACT I: The Glade
I remember how it was,
To sit and never listen,
Never knowing what’s the cost,
Of treasures that just glisten.
I see myself just sitting silent,
Smiling and enjoying,
All this time that wasn’t violent,
What sentimental cloying.
And yet I look around just now,
I see this wondrous glade,
And I know not when but how,
It will meet its fate.
We march and reach the last frontier,
It always is the last,
But still we fight, yes still we’re here,
This war was never fast.
It was a slow and costly journey,
Not only for me,
As I was part of this whole army,
Of men who are not free.
We fight for these imperfect virtues,
We want to lead and conquer,
We claim to know, but not to choose,
We tell ourselves we’re stronger.
And then I sit down in this vale,
I wonder what would happen,
If I could end my dreadful tale,
But then there came the captain.
He told us: »Boys you are the best!«,
He wanted us to know,
That we would never have to rest,
We’d always just pull through.
I saw the faces of these men,
Sweat and dirt and blood,
With no food or water-can,
And no almighty god.
They had lost their hopes and dreams,
They had seen destruction,
It pulled away these naïve seams,
And now they felt obstruction.
An endless wall of pain and sorrow,
That we have brought with us,
And when the sun then greets the morrow,
We will end it thus.
We will burn the green away,
Blow away the stones,
See again this whole affray,
And break these people’s bones.
Yes, when it ends we’ll see this glade,
Made of blood and tears,
This will be our final fate,
The apex of our fears.
ACT II: Fire in the Night
When morning broke we went and marched,
We sang our silent songs,
Our throats were sore, and they were parched,
But that’s how it belongs.
We reached the village at the bay,
The people bowed in fear,
We were here to fight and stay,
But our will was sear.
We fortified our final stand,
Readied our weapons,
We would never make amends,
Regardless of what happens.
And then I stood up on the fort,
I saw this little boy,
All he wanted was to sport,
With his little toy.
It was a soldier made of clay,
He painted and adorned it,
And as I saw him laugh and play,
There was nothing that I wanted.
I lost this feeling that I had,
This moment full of tension,
On my hand I rest my head,
And had no foul intention.
I smiled and watched this kid all day,
Remembered how it was,
But then I heard the starting fray,
And felt like I was lost.
A storm of fire, smoke and death,
It clouded all my vision,
It took away my restless breath,
And gave me this new mission.
Hastily I left my post,
Grabbed my readied weapon,
Thought of what I wanted most,
But knew it wasn’t happ’ning.
And so, I entered in the fray,
An endless hail of metal,
I found the boy, who kneeled to pray,
And now I showed my mettle.
I grabbed and carried him inside,
The fort it was besieged,
This would be my final fight,
Now my end I’d meet.
I knew it, when I looked around,
All I saw was death,
I was lost within this sound,
Of my dying breath.
I felt the wounds my body suffered,
But still I saw this boy,
He was crying, and he trembled,
But he clutched his toy.
ACT III: The Hero
I remember how it was,
When I was just a boy,
There were constant raging wars,
But I, I had my toy.
It was a soldier made from clay,
I painted and adorned it,
I had it with me every day,
It was all I ever wanted.
And then it came this darkest night,
The village was afire,
I felt this deep and awful fright,
My future it seemed dire.
But then my toy it came to life,
It took me by my hand,
Carried me through all this strife,
And took its final stand.
When the fight had finally ended,
I waked in stranger’s arms,
The soldier’s duty now had ended,
As had now his harms.