Squalls of fighting doves Surge forward in a dry khaki sea. Wave after wave tumbles Crashing in to soft red rock canyons Where boys on boys Left a tide of men, Where brothers in arms, in arms embrace In a sward of scarlet dew. The useless advance in yellow fog Making eyes cry out drowned souls Which fall to Hinnom’s plasma rivers Where men become the cud of worms, Raising the ground yet further from God. I am a soldier of the King A creation of God A husband to a wife A father to a son And a brother to thousands.