My brothers in arms,
By perdition of humanity, my eyes have burned enough,
My withered flesh speaks of wounds,
There are enough statements to prove,
All that had been wasted in my life.
My eternal brothers,
I have been the one stained by whispers of tears,
For your threads of life untwined from mine.
Echoes of silence, whispers that echo quietly,
Echoes blurred by grace, sifting through trials of fire.
My eternal brothers, dust in the wind, say their tale in whisper of silent wind.
Through the days, through the night,
Through agony of eternity.
A broken mind broken still,
Seeking grace, a place free of chains, and a place of free words.
A kingdom that will rise on the ashes of our souls.
Would the conflicts really matter?
They’ll just end up being words,
They’ll always be just words.