SWSWSW~-=Free=-~SWSWSW

Under a cold, slate day,
The sun was away
Over the pocked, muddy ground,
Among the pools, was found.

The limp, dirty body, of a young red man,
Or was he white, black, yellow, or tanned?
The vessel of a ghost, that haunts to this day,
The heavy hearts, of the ties that were frayed.

And through the sands of time,
The wildflowers borne,
Painted the orchards,
Where the muddy road had torn.

Although dilapidated,
It's often understated,
The cruelty that lies in man.

Hearts beat in each,
With truth, or deceit,
And most of life, is left to chance.

And when hope is lost,
Out of the ashes,
Rises measures the lucky will never know.

As we trade all your days,
Of carelessness away,
For a place to rest our weary bones.

While some find cruel fate,
At the end of a hate,
That ignited the fires of our kilns.

To build sooty machines,
That stole all our dreams,
And left us with debts and bills.

So envy the dead,
Because they are free
From the war for sanctity.

Bless all your words,
If they're to be heard,
And remember you are me.

And should you find home,
Let me know there's hope,
Let me know what it's like to be free.