Upon the void filled sky of endless black;
Frozen, barren and uncaring for none.
A great sea of lights floods the void,
But a moments’ infinite star and sun.
What sun or star or even moon, you say could brighten such a load?
None, cept the battleships and their smaller kin, who talk in secret code.
And so the endless void of space is filled with lights of colors so bright.
Of the beams and missiles, whom to devastation they take their thunderous flight!
And with a sea of white comes the rain of crimson red,
For the brave soldier who for the last time lays to sleep in his final bed.
From the greatest mountain to the smallest shore,
The blackest dark turns crimson from the fight!
Thus, on the field of glory, it is clear for all and nevermore;
How the cold heart is warmed by war’s light;
But that warrior’s heart beats no more.
The Field of Glory
7th BALADA book