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Young Billy was a soldier in the War Between the States; 
And scars of war made Billy feel a victim of the fates. 
He fought for Mr. Lincoln and the preservation creed 
Yet saw too many dying and he saw too many bleed. 

Now Billy knew the dreams of war so vivid every night, 
Were dreams of almost everyone who'd caught that bloody fight. 
The war he fought sought righteousness which he believed was true 
But never understood how North and South could split in two. 

His parents died of fever while he fought in Tennessee, 
A fact he didn't know until the North claimed victory. 
His papa, wise and sullen like the Irish Sea he knew, 
Had come to this America with dreams to start anew. 

Young Billy hoped his mama knew he'd made it through the war 
For she had shed no salted tears when he marched off before - 
But mothers bury very deep such pain within their soul 
So only God could touch her there and try to make her whole. 

Now both were gone along with wisdoms they could gently share 
To help him lift conflicted pain no man should have to bear. 
He prayed that Father Dave back home in Dublin had been right - 
A man can speak with loved ones in the starlight of the night. 

The things of life one covets can be lost to history, 
Including soldiers buried by the war's ferocity. 
He cried out loud in anger at the God he once adored: 
"Why did You leave me all alone my precious, precious Lord? 

What grave offense did I commence before Your loving eyes?" 
Though God was silent in repose great clouds then cleared the skies 
And Billy's father softly spoke and made the two as one 
With words of wisdom's calming balm to heal his broken son. 

"The wisdom of this world are pearls wrapped snug in crystal rain 
Proclaiming life will never end but just begin again."

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