Quiet RevolutionsThe creeks ran red that year and the trees were leveled.
The endlessly stretching plains seemed even more desolate,
burning under a blackened sky.
Brothers killed brothers, mothers were left to bury their sons.
The winter storms never cease, they just pause for a breath.
The ice crunched beneath boots, decaying spirits wandering.
The creeks ran red with the blood of revolutionaries,
the snow stained with bloody footprints, desolation in the wake,
the earth scarred beyond recognition.
Brother was buried by the creek, a lonesome tree as a marker.
Left that place, but never truly left it, soaked into the ground.
Revolutions are hardly ever quiet.
I guess for me every time I see a lonely tree like this a song pops in my head, www.youtube.com/watch?v=JOIo4l… Fire and rain by James Taylor. I don't know why, I think of the lines......................
Won't you look down upon me, jesus
You've got to help me make a stand
You've just got to see me through another day
My body's aching and my time is at hand
And I won't make it any other way
I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again