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The Holy Land

The butchers slab of Hell, of Christian and Infidel.
Swords slash and cut lose the soul, fear! not 
conscience pays the toll. And yet with battles
endless plight, the cut and thrust, ferocious might.
For all the dark one ray of light, that gentle kiss 
one moonlit night.
Antioch, no quarter asked no quarter given, the
sword from blood to bone is driven. Then in the 
twinkling of an eye, the pain a sickening cry. Thud
the arrow hit my chest, piecing bone and armoured 
vest. From horse to earth I did fall, with failing 
breath her name did call.
And there he stood with coal black eye, be still
Christian or you will die. The arrow is close to 
heart, I must remove less the poison start. With
those words I drift to sleep, back to Avalon and
a promise keep. Was it hours or was it days, the
Devil tricks and mind it plays. When I woke he
was kneeling east, offering prayer to man and
beast. He saw me said rest Christian your heart
is sweet, it is full of love but incomplete. A
greener land and softer hue awaits, it is not we 
who control our fates. Pray tell me what's your 
name, he said call me friend are we not the same.
Jealousy and greed corrupt our aim, in our Gods
name we create our shame. He gave me rest he
gave me balm, kept the fire and kept me warm. 
I asked him why. He gave me that soft dark eyed
look, he said Christian it's all about a book. A man
who stopped to aid an injured man, a man ignored
by his own country men. Yes I said the good 
Samaritan, and my book has these stories to.
Your stronger now your wound has healed, time
to leave this foreign field. My family awaits with 
open arms, peace and warmth and all its charms.
I clenched his hands and kissed his cheek, as if
brothers in words did speak.

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