In Barrack Halls
His sandals clop in death march style;
I wake and step into the aisle,
and watch him trek in mid' of night,
as I observe through amber light.
He trudges from his barrack cell
with misted eyes, cast down toward Hell.
The exit's glow that bathes the hall
displays his shadow on the wall.
December storm, the only sound,
the shadow's head is hanging down.
The fierce north winds drive heavy rain;
his losing her, pelts pouring pain.
In barrack halls, I fight the chill!
For Dead who walk,
the world...
stands...
still.
I wake and step into the aisle,
and watch him trek in mid' of night,
as I observe through amber light.
He trudges from his barrack cell
with misted eyes, cast down toward Hell.
The exit's glow that bathes the hall
displays his shadow on the wall.
December storm, the only sound,
the shadow's head is hanging down.
The fierce north winds drive heavy rain;
his losing her, pelts pouring pain.
In barrack halls, I fight the chill!
For Dead who walk,
the world...
stands...
still.
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