Green Fields to Cold Steel
The fire burns, with embers glow
Even still, this house feels cold
The wind softly sighs it's goodbyes
I lay two plates upon the wood
Though one gets cold
I pour the tea, it spills and pools
My hands shake at the thought of you
The clock still ticks, the world still turns
But time means little to me
With every knock I pray it's thee
Your coat on the wall, with boots by the door
Your voice still lingers, but I wake to hear it no more
They sent a letter quick and cold
With words of honor and sympathy from we
But honor can not warm me.
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