Sometimes we hear silent footsteps
Treading within our memories
Just as the muffled rattle of guns
Echoing through the fallen castles runs
Fragmenting our silent reveries.
Just sometimes this creeping sensation
Of being followed from close behind
Through the darkening woods and shrubs
As the lengthening shadows fall across -
Who's it stares from the back of our mind?
And some times we behold strange visions
Of things unheard of, people unknown
As frame by frame the scenes play up
Of troops in rushing, bridges blowing up,
Chilling our marrows and bone.
These the remnants of our ancient past
Somewhere thrive in the abyss of our memories,
Though times have flown and worlds are done
And wars and wins and the vanquished are gone,
Still invade our loneliest reveries.