Derne Manor IV

      We returned upstairs. “The bed's yours,” I said, shutting the door behind me.

      “It's... mine?”

      “All yours. Sleep well.”

      Saoirse slid into the bed and sighed. She struggled with the blanket for a moment before curling into a ball and falling asleep. I drew the curtains closed and sat against the side of my bed. My eyes closed.

–

      “Anthony!” whispered a voice.

      I mumbled unintelligibly and looked around in a daze. My room was dark, except for a dim red light on my nightstand: my alarm clock. It read 10:43.

      “Anthony!” I heard again. I craned my neck around to see Saoirse, wide-eyed and pale in the red glow of the clock.

      “What's wrong?”

      “I heard a sound.”

     I cupped an ear and heard footsteps. They grew louder, but were still fairly quiet. Light seeped under the door with the click! of a switch. The light went out again after a short while. “It's just my mother.” Saoirse let out a sigh of relief and laid back on the bed.

      “We have a long night to go,” I said. There was no response. I twisted around again and saw that, like the light outside my room, she had returned to her rest in short order. I nearly reached over to wake her, until I saw a light smile on her face. She was more peaceful than silence itself – I couldn't bring myself to disturb that.

      Instead, I recruited a deck of cards and a flashlight to wait out the night with me.

–

      After several games of solitaire, houses of cards, and what could only have been a miracle, the clock turned to 8:00. I heard the door open and shut as my mother left for work. The car started and faded off into the distance. Saoirse was still sleeping soundly, but I figured I would wake her.

      I knelt at the side of the bed and whispered her name. She stirred a bit, but didn't open her eyes. I reached a hand onto her shoulder. “Saoirse, wake up.”

      Her eyes opened now. “Oh, it was adream.” She sounded disappointed.

      “What happened in your dream?”

     “I saw my parents. I was little again. We were in our old home.”
 

     “Why don't you live with them?”

     With a regretful expression, Saoirse prepared to answer.

Sunset (Demo)

A recording of my original instrumental "Sunset" on a twelve-string guitar.

Soldiers' Lament

 “I used to believe in my freedom,

and I used to believe in the war.

But I fell, with my allies, into prison,

where we screamed, through the torture, 'no more!'”

“I used to believe in my freedom,

and I came here to settle a score.

But I've cried every night for my children

hoping they'd miss me no more.”

“I used to believe in my freedom

when I heard the battlefield's roar.

But I could not muster the courage

to raise my rifle anymore.”

The whispers of soldiers carried

through hallways of steel and stone.

Their memories wasted with their bodies

from blood to broken bones.

Trials by fire and landmines

left scars on both flesh and land.

Allies left dying in the forests

resided in better hands.

“I used to believe in my country

when I left her glorious shores,

but now my belief is dying;

I have faith in my country no more.”

“I used to believe in my country –

in the glorified tales of war.

But the stories I heard were dishonest

and I believe in them no more.”

“I used to believe in my country

until I came through that door.

I'm shackled and locked in this cell,

and help will be coming no more.”

One by one they faded

as they reached the end of their tour.

They died in a foreign nation

and chanted their lament no more.

Then the guards gathered 'round them in a chorus,

and they summoned their voices in song.

They chanted a wicked, sneering verse

and bade their prisoners so long:

“You used to believe in your freedom,

and you thought you could take on a war!

But you sobbed to your hands like cowards:

'I believe in my country no more.'”