These three die the same
But only one can be immortal.
All three run to their deaths
But only two can run to Calvary.
We sing sad songs
We feel sorrow
And we remember them
The first we mourn the Lost dead son
The second we hail the Victorious dead!
The last we curse, the murderer.
These are the ways to be a fighter
We have a million names for them all, the same type of men and women:
Soldier, Knight, Samurai, Spearman
The Minuteman, the Ronin, the janissary
There a Thousand stories
across all the seven seas
all the lands the sun Graces.
They are bloody, beautiful and fill the heart with woe yet there is a harmony.
Good men and devils
Bad men and gods
These stories are the wisdom of the Children of Men
To be a citizen is to be of Rome, Jerusalem, and Camelot!
Farmer, blacksmith or boy called to fight
Because he loves what he leaves.
He hears the call of the horn which calls him: to fight, to die or to stand a man for only a moment in which God Alone will see.
They died heeding the call of The Once and Future King.
These were David’s Mighty Men
The friends of Hector
The legions of Scipio and Horatius
The Lakota, Cheyenne, Pueblo and Mono
All those who died to keep Home Free
They left their bones far from home in strange lands and foreign Seas.
In Wars futile and wise
Remembered and forgotten.
Witness us! That is what they demand.
His Creed: my life for yours
Remember Elah where David won.
Look at Hector’s firey pyre and why he died.
Remember the allies of lights when you are in darkness.
The heroes who are men.
The warrior like Achilles is blessed and cursed!
arrogant and doomed
Brooding in his tent while better men die
Remember David decapitating Goliath with his own sword!
The Warriors flawed but he has his day
He is fearless in battle
Praying every moment like a boy
Cursing gods and his creator
He tastes the Divine in His Wrath
He may sing praises in the glory or in the ashes
He is like the Crusader
Richard, Raymond, Godfrey
He has many faces and many victories
Because he believes and knows what he is doing.
He declares things he does not understand
The ways of the heart
The old stories
The warrior loves War, it is a part of him
The worst thing is he understands it
That is the part of hell he takes upon himself
He knows the fragility of living because he makes his way among the Dead
He even loves or hates his maker for the same reason,
for his life is a blessing or a curse but he decides.
He does not know peace in this life you can only await it in the next
The last is the walking shadow
A careless soul becoming a beast
They bear The Mark of Cain the one for those who have murdered
They are those who chose in Oblivion for their hearts
They’ve killed the world like Romans falling on their swords
The embrace the darkness the Doom that comes against them
They are blood and dust for they have fallen into smoke and Shadow
The Walking Dead, the workers of iniquity and the Bloody men.
Saul who murdered himself
Agamemnon ended by Follies blade
They are Long Knives, Death’s Heads and baying Hounds
Who try to murder the world
We know their names because we still feel the pain they caused
There’s a long list of villains all to be eventually forgotten
By the grace of God this will happen soon
Be warned those who go to war
To remember the old stories in the old books
We have yet to learn all blessings
These lessons are our only warnings
The rest is up to you