Dark as night, with a heart as bright as light, I choose not to hurt with words, I'll rather share the joy. Poetry amaze me, art on canvas are my weakness, it was just a hobby but seems to me it's life now.
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.