Our Strange Land

Ashen dreams fall from a starlit night, Extinguished by the distance And they land softly, Soundlessly, On winter skin, Hands and feet, Gentle in the emerald grass we lie. Tragic words fall from a pretty mouth, "We fell" Ink leeched under skin, Kinsman or cult follower Marked on our wrists, Blackened symbols Of the great many. We stand, We fight, For our strange land We reach forth, Into the unknown, Our only light.