Spiritual

they dance on the edge of nearly 
unperceived breezes 
the sighs of dead men's final breath 
that follow me to the edge 
of the thickets 
many lay at the feet of those who wish to taste death 
but not know it 
brothers in arms 
who cross from the horrors often placed upon them by man 
into a swath of light that holds no measure of time or space 
or pain 
they are free to walk from the remnants that linger in living consciousness 
yet remain 
tied to the moment of their crossing 
the essence of their love for kindred souls

battlefield