Crimson Valley
A warrior calls his lovers name,
the hills aflame with war.
Iron catching iron,
on crimson valley floors.
An echo comes with wind
and a thousand years or more.
Recluse,robber,lunatic,
shoulders touching,
they stand against the tide.
Sunlight catching metal
these bloody blades do call
across the hills of time,
as warring commrades fall.
The valley calls in silence
to a distant memory.
She cradles knowlege to herself,
her name the only key.
Crimson Valley speaks no more.
Copyright ©2003 W.Garrett Garrison
A warrior calls his lovers name,
the hills aflame with war.
Iron catching iron,
on crimson valley floors.
An echo comes with wind
and a thousand years or more.
Recluse,robber,lunatic,
shoulders touching,
they stand against the tide.
Sunlight catching metal
these bloody blades do call
across the hills of time,
as warring commrades fall.
The valley calls in silence
to a distant memory.
She cradles knowlege to herself,
her name the only key.
Crimson Valley speaks no more.
Copyright ©2003 W.Garrett Garrison