Ashen Requiem

...The slow fall of snow... on a field where nothing grows...

The violins cry like widows in the mist
Where the cannon smoke has frozen into stone
I cannot feel the fingers on my fist
Just the echo of a name I used to own

Albinoni, play your mournful thread
For the boys who never left their bed
They march where no one follows, no one leads
Just the whisper of forgotten creeds

AND THE DRUMS ARE DEAD...
Through the mud and the iron chrome
WHERE THE HEART HAS FLED...
...And the General calls the score
While the dead knock at the door
OF THE ASHEN... THRONE!

Look at the sky, it’s bleeding Adagio
The clouds are just shrapnel dressed in wool
We traded the sunrise for a domino
And now the only kingdom is a grave thats full

Do you hear them, mother?
In the wires of the fence?
They are not screaming in anger...
...They are praying for the sense
To understand why beauty
Must be forged in boiling lead
Albinoni, hold your bow...
...They are hanging by a thread

AND THE DRUMS ARE DEAD...
...But the souls keep marching home
Where the poppies never bloom
Just the silence and the gloom
AND THE FLAME HAS BLED...
...Let the requiem begin
For the warriors locked within
THEIR OWN... TOMB...

Fading whisper: "Say my name... into the Adagio..."
...A single bell tolls...
...END.