Eloquence From the Grave

It was as if a friend I never knew came in to speak of some old honor left behind while in the rush to war... as if there were a bond between the tides of men expressed upon an ancient scroll, and pressed into the mind. I do not know how it occurred but found that words may have their birth as heartsong from the other side where seasoned consciousness emerges not from men, but from those fallen souls incarnate in the spirit void. These are the words of passion that we cling to, that even in their error, echo in the hollow corridors where heroes strolled, intoned by eyes alone, and as I sat before my desk, dropping tears upon the book I read... confronting old vitality, I found that I could pull away, then underneath a stone engraving now refreshed by immortality, I found myself caught up, perceived a timeless, personal rapport I may yet presume to understand... for there arose in consciousness a strange new epithet, that life begins at death. ~