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Poem - Fields of Antietam
Posted On 05/22/2008 13:46:25 by Great_White_Hunter

Fields Of Antietam

 Gentle, the goodnight bids its welcome
of humble spirit and gilded heart
of our hailed heroes fallen upon the field.   

This road that takes me home,
driven in principle,
shall not yield to the lamenting soul,
which beckons him rest not
in the fields of Antietam.   

Honor him, who does fall
upon the crimson soil
lost in this sea of wickedness. 
Shall you not partake of
the sacrificial kiss with me?   

Break your bread
you honored few
who are about to die. 
I salute you.   

Follow me this fated morn! 
The hallowed day is upon us.   

Drink of my blood
that it may lay sweet
upon your courageous tongue. 
“This do in remembrance of me.”   

I am of the lamb,
sacrificed upon the cross, 
for all free men. 

With Him do I ever stand,
forever falling upon this land torn. 
Lamenting spirit,
troubled youth,
fear not the cannon-fire
raining death upon this desperate field.   

Rise free brethren!
Run your sword through 
the breast of despondence.   

Brandish honor with head held high
upon the Reaper’s field,
resting not to the opulent mass of decadence stretched before you. 

Nay, the night forays its sleepy shadow
over your fragile soul.   

So the body falls. 
Does not your spirit rise
to walk the peaceful road home?   

Does not tranquility
abode upon the cobble there
comforting your weary walk
upon hero’s foot?   

Rise!
Defend!
Split the night with iron will
and battle-clad hoof.   

In him do we ever endeavor
to free all men in this sovereign union. 

Steady the thunder,
clap of the hoof,
and unkempt boot
marching into history
this very night,
and upon this very field
rich with the cry of free men
resolved in sovereignty
at the end of the bayonet.   

This is the way,
the life,
freedom’s light.   

Cast the hues of blues,
of grays,
and of crimson tides
upon this day’s canvas.   

Antietam, our bodies lie. 
Sacrificed upon your magnificent field. 
So that free men may live
the lives we gave away.   

Even so,
as heroes of the day,
we echo through eternity
upon this sovereign wind,
“Fields of Antietam,
we the dead salute you!”         

Copyright © 2006 Kevin V. Reese



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