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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required 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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