The most abominable aspect of war is its necessity.
To where are you marching, soldier,
...
I’ve heard the music of the piper
From where the faeries roam,
For it carries thro’ the woodlands
That stand behind my home.
...
He stood high upon the white cliffs
Gazing out to sea,
And as he watched its ebb and flow
There upon he wished to be;
...
O’ the black bird this final twilight brings,
He comes this night upon stealthy wings
And thus to this I am fraught with dread,
For darkness knells; O’ whither shall I tread?
...
Nary dare I tend to touch upon
The tangible ordinary,
For I prefer the delightful pull
Toward the imaginary.
...
Vaporous forms adrift through cold dark rooms
Are remnants of passing that in this life looms,
And I’ve felt the touch that this dread embraces
While wandering about in haunted places.
...