Let your mind take you somewhere special. Maybe a place where tall oak trees gently and silently stroke a placid rivulet with shadows as a cool summer breeze whispers a symphony of blue serenity; of yesterday’s innocence come now but memory. Perhaps old soldiers and sailors consider, as is fitting, thoughts and former notions in this serene woodland of wisdom that yesterday’s briars and paths of tragic confusion were only obstacles to overcome; and at last, amid sylvan wonders of reverent and Godly peace, they have opportunity to reflect.
Indeed, the cannon yet speaks in a strange and morbid tongue little known to those of peaceful intent, yet many too, only yesterday were deceived to think they could comprehend a grievance offered, some beckoning, yet deceitful cause brought forth by those of no substance, so are all conflicts. As wild songbirds dart among greenery of an understanding wood, he watches, hears the songs, comes to see the futility as if it were a long-embarked sailing ship slowly emerged from a hazy ocean, the error of such deceit. Fields stained of darkening blood look to the azure heaven and cry, of sorrow and earnest no less than that of Abel, for justice, for truth, which a covenant has promised. It awaits an appointed time.
Convinced now of darkest betrayal, amid the rapacious clamor and echoes of another war, a grey cloud descends upon youthful hearts as at last, on wings of understanding they depart; yet those who send them, those who burden them with instruments of destruction, will not reconcile. Damn them! Green leaves are not meant to fall! The infernos of hell await and shall torment forever those of pernicious bearing on whom final judgement fall, who value not tears of mothers or children, nor precious blood spilled to purchase another hour of decadence.
A day will come for a great and wrathful wind sent forth to scour the land. Savagery of evil shall succumb to His judgement, and knees shall bend. Belated regret shall avail not the guilty. No, for that day, the glory of Him who came from heaven and stood in the form of man upon His creation among His brethren shall be revealed and require that the evil soul be denied forevermore a place with Him. Only on that day will the man of perdition realize the depth of his loss. He who seeks redemption, be it sought belatedly in some peaceful forest of old age, or in a forsaken trench filled with blood, tears, and agony – will find it.
A day of peace in the serenity of a wooded hillside, a day of meditation when the simple wonder of creation strikes the heart of the old warrior who has long-since repurposed his sword, shall reveal to him the futility of war and death and the inestimable value of that knowledge. He shall cry on that day for those not blessed to see it and wonder that destiny was shaped for him to seek a wooded solitude where he finds the heart to shed tears for those taken in youth.