| The Battlements � by The Magus The wind blows... Fires burn... Smoke drifting up... The wheels of war no longer turn... Tattered flags... Silent air... An empty battlefield... A harmonica weeps from somewhere... The battlements are empty, the soldiers have all gone home... Home to the earth, and the rest of us walk alone... The cannons are silent, the world is quiet... The only sound a lone harmonica... A harmonica, playing out the sadness... There's smoke in the sky, ghostly choirs sing... Far off a sound, the church bells ring... That harmonica, so softly, they join in symphony... A tiny anthem... To the pointlessness of it all... The harmonica falls silent, to join the rest... The voices of the soldiers...their song is done... The flags are torn...but the bell rings one last time... To mark the setting...of the sun... |