Ark of the Lost Angels

Autumn in Ukraine _{(Credit: RadoJavor)}

Inspired by David Gilmour’s cover of “Between Two Points” featuring Romany Gilmour.

The world we knew was eternal night,
Sunlight stained by the reddish smoke.
Every moon, a blood moon from the light reflected
Of the pools of men whose names and futures were forsaken
In service of inconsequential achievements.

Though all are equal in death,
Few are equal before it. 
Death is the cruelest teacher,
Yet its lessons are the most significant.

The angels hold no dominion here.

Attrition of the body is only inferior
To attrition of the mind.
To break the darkness,
We must walk through it. 
To keep the vows made
At final breaths.

We lived under the shadow of the raven’s wing,
Using the last of our strength to spite its master
For a precious few moments longer.
There will be a day to rest in quiet fields,
Once the price of the shadows is paid in blood. 

If the day’s bloodshed does not fill your cup, it is good.

We stood on the cusp of eternity,
In glory for our victory
Or remembrance of our sacrifice.
Only we knew the most grievous of truths:
That there exists no victory without sacrifice. 

As darkness fell and the hordes descended upon us,
We beat our ploughshares into swords once more.
Though uncertain if we would witness first light again, 
We faced our fate certain that our deeds would echo throughout eternity,
And lesser men would dare not speak our names without trembling,
Forevermore.