blood and gunpowder

Once upon a time Lived a boy drenched in reason and rhyme He culled the fields A plow he yields With a smile as soft as soil But he heard the call to better things away to rocks and stones that sing Buried down in dirt and dust Yields a bite of metal's rust A smile as sharp as flint The hand of death touched his soil But through that barrage he twisted and toiled But as he pleaded an escape from the grip of black He knew that it would pull him back And a set as solid as stone Back to farm and yield he traveled To see he life had unraveled His green fields of corn and roan Was all dark, and filled with stone The green boy shadow stained The boy had twisted and shouted That the shadow of death should let him out But in his haste to escape He forgot the trace of blood and the deeper scrape That was gunpowder and blood He forgot to ask He forgot the tasks That had given him a soil smile And in that lost guile He forgot to ask the hand that gripped him To wash itself of the shadow Of blood and gunpowder

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