• One more time.
    We are, and this has only just begun
    Known by me and you, is we are the one.
    Another cover and title to a photo book.
    Never in doubt, so amazed to shout.
    A house with a dog, a home built by me to the log.
    Thoughts brew in her, mind swirling in him.
    A child! The lovers believed.
    Would fill the gap between them.
    So a child was conceived, and now they wait and see.
    War! War! The papers filled with War!
    Combat is fought between nations, and fear seeded.
    Joined for the cause, my abilities are needed.
    My world left behind to another.
    I am now a father, and my wife a mother.

    This time I hear the call, I heard the cries.
    The tears of men and the blood of the torn.
    If it's the time to mourn, then be the one that dies.
    Because I fight for my wife, kids, and dog.
    Nothing but a fog is in my sight, no enemy appeared.
    Until a bang! boom! pow! smash!
    Crashed into my arm is a bullet it caught.
    The spray filled the air, and the heat was met.
    Curses flew, bullets flashed, teeth cringed, and gnashed.
    A step is taken, then another, faster it grew and went.
    Charging into the ranks, with shouts of ancestral decent.
    'Erin go Bragh! I will not fall!"
    Red in my eyes, rage equipped to boiling point.
    Many are cold with the chaotic blade of death.
    Allies and enemies met, brothers and fathers dead.


    The last time I return, to the land I call home.
    To my wife and son, dog and property.
    There was no stopping me. I was a warrior in the ranks.
    Now I feed my child, and give her thanks for our lad.
    It came crashing down. Going to drunkard from dad.
    My life stolen from a crash, my soul taken to the bottle.
    Any who dare oppose me now, will only feel my throttle.
    To the pub is where I go it's the only place to home.


    This last time we feel no passion, it's thrown into the wind.
    This final time we feel no peace, only challenged and tempered.
    I descend to the depths with no turning back.
    This story was written and now my last.
    Driven to death, by a bullet from the past.