the wHiteRequiem

Upon the light of darkened sky,
bid me sleep o' shallow eye
and dig a grave i hope to lie;
to lay a midst but never die.

This be the verse Epitaph of Fallen yore
so seek yonder world of forgotten lore.

And upon my hollow tomb o' write for me:
"Here he lies where he longs to be."

Died for you a world so free...
he scorned with awe
and found at heart
what he never saw.