There's a rhythm and order, a beat
to how things must be done.
There's a slim chance for us, to taste defeat
in this never ending war, but still we feel the heat,
even when the battle is won.

Targets marked
Fire for effect
Danger Close.

Call in the Artillery,
call in the Calvary
Call in the Devil Dogs,
the hounds of war,
for they are the few,
the proud,
the United States Marine Corps.

Oorah!

They are the brave men and women
who dedicate their lives to Country and Cause,
they are the peacemaking war mongers
whole fight and defend without pause.

They, the Army, Navy, Air Force and All
they are the bravest of us who heard
and answered the call.

Be that as they may be,
that, my friend, is not me.
I've never fought the hellish fight,
as they have for us.
But i'll fight forever and a day because I must.

To find you again,
I'll shatter and conquer worlds,
near and apart.
Just to know that you'll be safe,
in the confines of my heart.

One day I'll find you,
and you, home again,
this be my prayer, each and every day,
every day, amen.

There's no worse news
than no news,
it's the news you want to hear,
despite all your hopes and fears,
but you have none.

You have only a wing and a prayer
when you feel like you're the only survivor.
You can fight,
and you can bleed,
this was the product,
of such a beautiful seed.

Alone in this desert,
exposed to the open air,
Alone I can only hope,
that no one else is there.

For this is not my land,
no friends here have I.
I must tread ever so carefully,
lest I be caught
and die.

Down to the waters,
which I can only hope is real,
and unto the bazaars,
to which I have to make my business deals.

But even so,
with a crowd full of people,
I am persecuted,
for I come from a land with a church and steeple.

So away I must run,
in hopes for better news,
but not before,
I stop to pay my  dues.

There's much to sacrifice,
as there is to gain,
unfortunately my hands are bleeding red,
covered in someone else's blood stains.

I wait here alone,
waiting for the news,
hoping I lost my pursuers,
but unfortunately this is their land,
and it's only covered with clues.

I hear nothing from the village,
indeed it's much too silent,
like the stones upon a grave,
perhaps it is fitting,
for the name of the village,
which the elders gave.

Death's Crossing.

There's no news yet,
as to where they maybe about,
but I'll find them, indeed I will,
I will without a doubt.

For my friends are out there,
and to them I must go,
where and how I shall find them,
I suppose only God the Devil knows.

So clean up that greaser,
and sharpen that blade,
keep safe that picture,
never to let their memories fade.

It's time to find them,
no more the time to wait,
the war has begun,
the enemy has breached the gate.

No more news shall be cast,
nor voices shall ring,
let the bullets fly and the blood rain down,
for there's no other time than now,
to finally start dying.

Unto the breach,
I travel once more,
braving danger and death,
staring at the door.

The worse news I remember,
from my instructor so old,
was the news that you couldn't hear,
the ones never told.

Tarry not!
I think not!

For idle time shall cost me more
than just a pretty dime!

There's so much more at stake than
what could ever be realized,
my purpose, my goal,
can not possibly be defined.

My heart is my will,
my will, my resolve,
and it shall not falter nor fall,
nor waver or dissolve!

Another day,
another month,
another year,
I shall not worry,
nor give into fear.

I'll have doubts,
as every man will,
but my faith is strong,
my patience tested,
but patient still.

Time is of the essence,
Time is cruel,
and not on my side,
so I tarry not,
and I shall fight on,
for the trail is still warm,
and the sun still hot.

I must go.
And tarry not,
for the promise I made?

I never forgot.

Their out there,
I know they are,
I hear the chattering of teeth,
the whispers of voices,
but yet the deafening noises
of silence
over take me.

As I stare out into
the land of the great nothingness,
there I must go
to conduct my business.

My steed, strong and steady,
ready to go with me,
better equipped
than I can ever be
to tackle the harsh desert land.

In the land of the absolute,
where no cars roar,
and no plans soar,
here where the land and sea
are but one and the same,
nature plays the toughest game.

Of survival.

This is not a force to trifle with,
nor do I plan to try,
for I do not plan, nor will I consider,
on the option to die.

I've friends out there,
who need my aid,
and so I rush head first,
into the great land of nothingness,
hoping for the best,
but ultimately prepared
for the worst.

There are eyes watching,
peering through the cracks of time,
in the timeless land,
where it's only but another sea,
the rolling sea of endless sand.

So they shall watch
to see if I shall falter and fall,
but I shall be victorious,
and defy the dead as they call.

And
as the Lord as my guide,
I shall be led to my destination,
for the Lord is at my side.

So let the eyes watch,
and the skeletons creep,
for I shall have my guardian watching over me,
and I shall be safe,
yet even as I sleep.

Aye,
let the eyes watch,
and the skeletons creep,
I will not allow howling storms to slow me,
nor the dangers of man give me cause to worry,
for I've a promise to keep.

Hold fast my friends,
where ever you may be,
for I am coming, approaching fast,
for though time has been cruel
and kept us far,
I shall not forget,
what we had in the past.

Let the eyes watch
those eyes watching me,
that I stand strong,
and I shall not flee!

Still winds,
on the dead land,
the air stings,
when you drown in sand.

Rocks and crevices,
so far as the eye can see,
to the untrained eye,
that's death at sea.

Finding shelter,
where you can make one,
keeping water,
away from the sun.

Only dust and echoes in the land of the dead,
no moisture, to touch my tongue,
nothing but sand and dirt,
no bodies possible,
nothing left to be said.

Follow the mountains,
stay in their shadows,
treacherous as they might,
dangerous as they are,
deadly as they will be,
some where there,
is a secret.

A secret waiting.

To be.
Set.
Free.

Can you hear their cries?
The cries of the dead and dying?
In the desert sand?
The sandy sea?
Can you stand in the still wind,
and still be...

Comfortable?