Germania
GermaniaA ruined outpost in a gothic wood,to this we march single-file;a resting place for weary feet,a perfect place to sit and eatat the end of a roman mile.A squad of soldiers, to which I belong,sits upon the old stones to rest;in the shadow of Caesar's legions,in the midst of this alien regionin which we are only guests.Rifles stacked, shining in the sun,our helmets off and pistol belts undone;I think of battles lost and battles won;the harrowing deaths of brave men,the barbarian slaughter and the battle's din.But now cigarettes and coffee go roundas someone jokes about a whore;perhaps a centurion said the same thingin this same spot, one day in the springtwo thousand years before.But my friends can't see from where they lieon this sunny afternoon in Julythat the ghosts of the legions watch over us;they still stand guardwith a gaze so hardand a vigilance that is ever righteous.And as I sit upon this noble groundmy thoughts continue to stray;how many men moreon their way to unknown warshave yet to pass this way?But now it's time to move outand put away these thoughts so noble and good:time to end our stay,time to march awayfrom this ruined outpost in a gothic wood. Written October 13th, 2001 © on Oct 13 2001 02:40 PM PST 0 • 10
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"GermaniaA ruined outpost in a gothic wood,to this we march single-file;a resting place for weary feet,a perfect place to sit and eatat the end of a roman mile.A squad of soldiers, to which I belong,sits upon the old stones to rest;in the shadow of Caesar's legions,in the midst of this alien regionin which we are only guests.Rifles stacked, shining in the sun,our helmets off and pistol belts undone;I think of battles lost and battles won;the harrowing deaths of brave men,the barbarian slaughter and the battle's din.But now cigarettes and coffee go roundas someone jokes about a whore;perhaps a centurion said the same thingin this same spot, one day in the springtwo thousand years before.But my friends can't see from where they lieon this sunny afternoon in Julythat the ghosts of the legions watch over us;they still stand guardwith a gaze so hardand a vigilance that is ever righteous.And as I sit upon this noble groundmy thoughts continue to stray;how many men moreon their way to unknown warshave yet to pass this way?But now it's time to move outand put away these thoughts so noble and good:time to end our stay,time to march awayfrom this ruined outpost in a gothic wood...."