If I may be so bold
to trouble you in bed…
You who is now cold,
you who is now dead.
Where would you rather be instead
of with the divine fold?
What dreams were in your head?
What did your future hold?
What life might you have lead?
Would you want your story told,
you who is now dead?
An end
comes to all things
and they are made equal
by the icy, impartial hands
of death.
Hear now a familiar tale
of wartime pageantry.
Can you hear the ravens’ wail?
They traveled far over hill and dale
and forests ripe with trees.
Hear now a familiar tale.
Arriving at last, hearty and hale,
to fight for their country.
Can you hear the ravens’ wail?
They clashed against, with weapon and mail,
the rival infantry.
Hear now a familiar tale.
Blood quenching the ground, a hearty ale
poured from men at their knees.
Can you hear the ravens’ wail?
None were left to say which side prevailed
in that visceral sea.
Hear now a familiar tale –
can you hear the ravens’ wail?
A (wise) man of two faces 