I hope the time is right, I hope the feel is alive.

I hope you still aspire, I hope we are still alive.
This life, that life, this moment, every moment
we have been for enough, now it’s the time to unite.

However there is a darker side

This feeling felt bleeding , my heart sank deep
Kept it quite , it didn’t even give a fight
Far away in woods amidst the down pouring crooks
Still wearing the hood, standing in dirty drenched boots.
The last light flickers and that face couldn’t even snicker.
The wind blew harder and colder it fluttered.
The shells grew colder, the shells grew harder.
The nails broke down and they said it didn’t scratch harder.
Yet tried a times felt the coldness of this war.
Someone lost this war but no one kissed their sword.
The quaint look of victory and tried one not ready to flee.

The war was not over as wick still flickered.

He took a hit, but not to fall a bit
but it’s only humane to fragment bit by bit
He stammered although everything he’d said
the word never came out as that pulse was at rest.

There wasn’t any ceremony there wasn’t many

Just was the family and few of his friends
it just wasn’t his fate said the one who couldn’t feel their own pulse.

Oak Teller: Mr Green