Maybe the only thing keeping me here
The thought of never being able to exist again
I’d be long gone if it was a different concept
If existence was possible even after going six feet underground ...
DEAD, with their eyes to the foe,
Dead, with the foe at their feet;
Under the sky laid low
Truly their slumber is sweet,
Though the wind from the Camp of the
Slain Men blow,
And the rain on the wilderness beat.