The Things We Carried

We live by bones
They hold us here
Our strange thoughts
Sleep; like wolves
Our fears the chains
Of a silver throne.

The weakest prey
On an absent god
Whose cries rouse
Hope; in silent hearts
Through silent lips
To bones we pray.

Hold us, mother
Let rest the dreams
Of hallowed halls
Departed; lay here
Sweet golden night
Beside our lover.

The words of lore
Lost much in time
The legends all but
Buried; hold still then
Quickly beating heart
That knows but war.

Our angels lost
On distant hills
The graves a marker
Still; bells ring joy
Ring love, our love
But six feet the cost.

Tired, hold up
A flag like weary
Men with voices like
Frayed red ends;
We are done with you now
Gather you close
Cast you aside
We bury ourselves
Not our bones.