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.