Cry for the Dead
Posted By: Walker<email@example.com>
Date: 12 October 2003, 8:16 PM
The blood of thousands
In rivers that flow through empty lands
Burnt and charred from the sky
The torn bodies
The children and the wives
And the men that they depended upon
For gods? For country?
For glory? For survival?
Why the destruction of thousands
Innocents caught in the crossfire
Innocents whom the fire was trained upon
Why must the children suffer for the hate?
Why must they die and cry and feel pain?
All because of the gods who command their destruction?
Is it right that those who have offered no offense
That those who have done nothing but cower
Is it right that they be the subject of massacre?
What gods would command such a thing?
What Prophets would see it done?
What insanity has gripped them?
The question rings silent in the ears of the dead
They hear no more
Peace is upon them by a manner so terrible
Why have the gods of the enemy condemned us to die?
Why have they decided that we must be destroyed?
Why have they brought down their sword?
Is it not enough that we run?
Is it not enough that we cry?
Is it not enough that with every landing
That only the dead remain?
Why do they kill us?
Why do they slaughter the defenseless?
By what craft do they hate so passionately?
Oh, why, Absalom?
Oh why the dead?
What Covenant with the gods
Has commanded this destruction?
Oh, these gods that you follow
So terrible in their wrath
Wrought from a throne of fire and sulfur
Why follow a path of destruction
That in the end condemns all to death?
Why wage this holy war upon the meek?
We fight valiantly
But why is it not enough?
Why is it not enough, God?
Why, God, does our valiance
And our courage earn nothing but sorrow
And a horribly failing defense?
Why not send us an angel?
An angel of death?
An angel of mercy?
Why does this angel deliver us not?
Why does the angel descend so slowly
From his side at your throne?
Does he not see
That his sword and spear
With the holy blood dripping
Are needed in the children's last hour?
And now the chariot descends
From the heavens in a cloud
Of gathering flame
And through the flame we see
A figure in armor
Brilliant in the fire that surrounds the angel
His chariot is pulled by steeds of molten bronze
And the gods of the enemy cower at his approach
But as he touches his wheels to the Earth
A blot of lightning
Jagged and sharp
Strikes and fells the angel of death
The deliverer falls from the cliffs
And falls and falls into the void
Never to rise again
The deliverer has been felled by the enemy gods
And throughout all the Earth
A cry is taken up
Terrible and wailing and long and lamenting
A Cry for the Dead
The Earth is obliterated
As a fire more terrible than that of God
Rains down upon the earth
The swarms of the enemy purge the lands
The survivors are tossed into the void
The children, the wives, the men
The dead are burned in a holy fire
That rises from Hell
The Earth trembles
As the last of the enemy blasts away
From the surface now desolate
Smoke rises in pitch black clouds
Staining the sky that was once blue
The land is damaged
Beyond the repair that ages can provide
Deep in the void
The angel of death awakes
He searches the dark
And girds upon himself the armor of God
Deep in the void
The angel of death awakens his comrades
The search the dark
And take up their arms
Deep in the void
The last of God's children
The resurrected dead
Plot their revenge on the gods of the enemy
And the Cry for the Dead
Terrible and lamenting
Is heard once more
Upon the Earth