A Voice In the Forest
We are the army of the dead
Rising up, marching towards battle
We fear no man, no foe
We shall rape and pillage
Your village shall be ours
We shall bring fires from hell upon you
The young will die
The old will dance to our whims
Our bagpipes you shall heed
As our drums tremble upon the ground you walk
We have died and returned from hell
We fear no man, no foe
We shall surely triumph, fear not at your own peril
.
.
.
I am but a child
I have no possessions
I own nothing of value
Hell surrounds me
Sometimes, I must live in dreams
Of bluer skies and softer times
When I awake, my voice sings
The sweet fragrance of things to be
Were men shall live in peace
Music shall be the harmony
For all of mankind to dance
Oh how they say, I sing like an angel
I dream of this day
.
.
.
The army marched forth
The boy did sing
Truly angelic sounds
Reverberated through the forest
On this day, this boy feared no one
His voice made even the birds sing along
The heavens opened their doors
A single human voice, made all the angels dance
The drums beat for war
Onwards marched the soldiers of death
Until they too heard an angelic melody in the wind
Coming from a small boy in the forest
These knights of darkness
Stopped dead in their tracks
For they wept and wept
For joy or sadness they knew not
The musical voice of an angelic boy
Brought these men at arms
A most unique victory
For they could fight no more
The human voice, an instrument of love
Copyright © Arthur Vaso | Year Posted 2013
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