Of Thee I sing

I am working out new book ideas. I write a poem daily, at least one, to try to keep the mind agile. Today I am not quite sure what I was channeling but I wrote the following poem. I put myself into the position of our soldiers and out it flowed. I wanted to share with you. I called it Of Thee I sing

I sit inside my vessel
It's is empty like me
Though I try to fill it up
It empties out around me
The colors run across me
Staining my skin
And though I feel the war upon me
I know I cannot win
In the distance drums are beating
Calling for the blood
But the King cries out against it
His crown is caked with mud

He struggles against the trumpets
Prothetic in their battle cry
Not a single man will live today
On this field they die. 

Red runs like rivers
Puddles in the mud
Screams of falling brothers
As death rains down from above

Fire burns around us
Smoke blinding their eyes
From their throats poor their endless cries

I sit inside my vessel
It's empty like me
Though I try to fill it
It empties out all around me
The colors run across me
Staining my skin
And though I hear the war is upon me
I know I cannot win

In the distance the pipers piping
The notes echo with pain
The sky is clouded over
Drenching us with rain
Old fears are upon us
Echoes of the slain
Running for cover
There is no escape from the pain

The drummer keeps on drumming
The piper pipes on
They will keep doing so 
Until all are gone.
No more echoes in the field
No more ghosts of the past
No more red running rivers
Puddles of the past

I remain in my vessel
Empty as I see
I no longer fill it around me
I spent it all 
Serving my country
I am empty like my vessel
It is empty like me
Death is upon us
My country tis of thee 
We dreamt of victory
Sweet land of libertyOf thee I sing.