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Ink is to the page What is knight to his mage Chosen yet spoken for, always the way Speaking the truth until the dark of night Shadows of darkness they cover the lies Useless he’s moving but which way to go Forwards lie peasants and back lie his foes His path is decided but not by his mind The choice to seek freedom a path he declined Lying in front of him are sheets of clay Memory of family resting this day Leaping in front him are pieces of gold All out of reach now, as he sold soul All along his road he feels trapped in his way They break down the man, and broken he prays “If nothings the matter, then why are you wet” Feelings beneath him, in the words that he said I travelled the roads with a bag full of gold Powdery substance now one with the road Journeying faster I look to the light Running away like a thief in the knight I tell you a story with a handful of dust Desperate my feeling in my hands human crusts Sewing my seeds in a medow of pain Only feel good I, when it starts to rain This man now broken I harvest the land Harvesting soldiers this boy now a man Clean the fields, cleaned the fields They are still stained With a hundred dead soul-diers Awaiting the rain I was a boy who ran from his home Now I’m a soldier but nobody knows???????, Written February 26th, 2002 © on Feb 26 2002 03:23 AM PST   10 • 0 • 1