The Wild Man's Journal

There's a long, low cry from the heavens

As the wind blows the skin right off the trees

And the thunder splits the sky,

as the silent warrior dies

And the Spirit rips the veil,

as the wind slows to a breeze

There's a long, low cry from the heavens

As the wind blows the skin right off the trees

And the heavens filled with rage,

as they closed the final page

It was written, now it is finished

 and it will last throughout the ages

The red drops dripping slowly down,

as they sink into the earth below

Mixing with the wetness from the rain above,

It was sunny just a moment ago

The precious drops of his lifeblood flow,

Down the brow of his battered face

You'd think you were looking at a nasty dream

From the bottom of the depths of space

Was a moment in time when the world stood still,

As the plan took its final course

All the darkness from the past and the woe to come

Were defeated in the final divorce

As the scripture read, his side was pierced

Still there came no cry of pain

For his spirit was in flight to it's rightful home

As the last of his lifeblood drained

There's a long, low cry from the heavens

As the wind blows the skin right off the trees

And the early light of day,

shines it's early morning rays

On two silent figures there,

as they roll the stone away