Epic
Truth he dares to ride
upon steed galliant as he,
and spirit with girded breast
the horse he rides a she
Breaking down barriers
as spirit gallops in stride
For truth a man he shouts
In truth we shall abide
For truth a man he shouts
Behind the man who rides
the horse we call spirit,
for in truth and love abides
as each hoof strikes the earthen mound
Vibrating like thunder upon the ground
Tis on the earth we roam and ride
and to the mound we shall reside
Truth again ... A whisper is heard
In ear beneath helmet and vest
And as if from bottom to top
Spirit is put to test
Dirt flies behind her trot
Truth again I say is heard
but this time high above us
as if carried by a bird
Then fire from the sky is seen
A ball as a flaming sword
Tis it a phoenix, or the sun I glean,
or hell from God being poured?
Ah, but they are the same
and from the clouds we hear
It's far better to burn away
than to fade with bitter tear
Another voice is heard
To begin again again again,
and yes I am a phoenix bird
and when we are through and heard
He shouted again: Dear sir!
It's better to ride ...
Indeed until our last breath,
ride on until you reach your death
Then I hear a whisper once more
As warm as the summers sun
Yes, ride on my soldier ride,
ride on if only for fun.
© J.P Belt
upon steed galliant as he,
and spirit with girded breast
the horse he rides a she
Breaking down barriers
as spirit gallops in stride
For truth a man he shouts
In truth we shall abide
For truth a man he shouts
Behind the man who rides
the horse we call spirit,
for in truth and love abides
as each hoof strikes the earthen mound
Vibrating like thunder upon the ground
Tis on the earth we roam and ride
and to the mound we shall reside
Truth again ... A whisper is heard
In ear beneath helmet and vest
And as if from bottom to top
Spirit is put to test
Dirt flies behind her trot
Truth again I say is heard
but this time high above us
as if carried by a bird
Then fire from the sky is seen
A ball as a flaming sword
Tis it a phoenix, or the sun I glean,
or hell from God being poured?
Ah, but they are the same
and from the clouds we hear
It's far better to burn away
than to fade with bitter tear
Another voice is heard
To begin again again again,
and yes I am a phoenix bird
and when we are through and heard
He shouted again: Dear sir!
It's better to ride ...
Indeed until our last breath,
ride on until you reach your death
Then I hear a whisper once more
As warm as the summers sun
Yes, ride on my soldier ride,
ride on if only for fun.
© J.P Belt