Charles J. Ingerson


The road wounded
came slowly progressing
feelings gone or found
not among the living.

The needle to hard
today to thread again
given to the loneliness
of thoughts of why, why?

Then came the cloud burst
drenching one and all
mud now the trail found
with no relief, no life.

It was this way we were
when the voice came
silken and forbidding
calling to us as one, one.

The silken thread of death
wanting us to follow quiet
no longer to fight as one
only to surrender ourselves.

Yet we could not compromise
the day and the night given
for it was just there to see
victory for the valiant waiting.

Thus onward we went alone
temptations beguiling thread
left bare in the mud and hate
while lifting our voices to pray.