I do not have anything in mind at the moment
Staring blankly with my writing instrument at at hand
Hoping to see the blue sky to look up to
Not just the ceiling that limits reservation
...
Give me the scorn of the stars and a peak defiant;
Wail of the pines and a wind with the shout of a giant;
Night and a trail unknown and a heart reliant.
Give me to live and love in the old, bold fashion;
A soldier's billet at night and a soldier's ration;
A heart that leaps to the fight with a soldier's passion.