In Me The Tiger Sniffs

In Me The Tiger Sniffs The Rose.

Life For The Majority Of The Population. Is An Unlovely Struggle Against Unfair Odds. Culminating In A Cheap Funeral.

December Stillness, Teach Me Through Your Trees That Loom Along The West, One With The Land, The Veiled Evangel Of Your Mysteries. While Nightfall, Sad And Spacious, On The Down Deepens, And Dusk Embues Me Where I Stand, With Grave Diminishings Of Green And Brown, Speak, Roofless Nature, Your Instinctive Words; And Let Me Learn Your Secret From The Sky, Following A Flock Of Steadfast-journeying Birds In Lone Remote Migration Beating By. December Stillness, Crossed By Twilight Roads, Teach Me To Travel Far And Bear My Loads.

I Am A Soldier, Convinced That I Am Acting On Behalf Of Soldiers.

Soldiers Are Citizens Of Death's Grey Land, Drawing No Dividend From Time's Tomorrows.