Oh, that your lovely flesh be there for me <br />a thousand miles I must, on blood-stained boots <br />hike through the corpses of man's hate for man <br />and carry only one, an ever-longing thought. <br /> <br />A bullet on a mission with the sound of scorn <br />and weaving on its path of wild destruction <br />flies by me, humming like a goddamn bumblebee <br />I'm telling blistered feet to be my friends. <br /> <br />What if, I say with hollow trepidation <br />another man, yet from another land <br />has claimed the prize before I stagger home, <br />it will not leave me and becomes its own obsession. <br /> <br />And then, a nightingale, sits on the knotted branch <br />of a tall tree that shows the ravages of war, <br />and sings the sweetest song that Nature could conceive <br />she sings for me and tells about my distant love. <br /> <br />It is enough to hear the sounds of this fine music <br />new powers penetrate my worn exhausted bones, <br />time is suspended altogether like a dream <br />and on the steps up to her door I weakly stumble <br />to catch the ambience of this thing called Happy End.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-happy-end/
