The Ferryman

I plan on working into this one much more, exploring the themes I bring up in this.

I once was a miner, working for my bread and dripping

Those days are long past now, memories clouded in my head

All I remember is heat, cloying moist and noise

Men, friends tearing asunder the earth, stripping coal, ash and bone

When I was a boxer, my face was beaten and scarred

A pugilist, a fighter, my actions should have seen me behind bars

All I remember is pain, the baying crowd, doctors, coaches

My body beaten apart, broken pride, heart and bone

I became a soldier, fighting, killing the enemy, just men

I force down the memories, obliterated with Whisky and Gin

But I still dream of the terror, the mustard gas and shrapnel

Friends torn to pieces, forced to the ground, stripping flesh, skin and bone

But first I was a hunter, trapping vermin on the lords lands

I cherish the memories, as a father I held family in my heart

I shut out the screams of foxes, the baying of hounds

Nature ripped to shreds, moss covered in fur, blood and bone

But now I am the ferryman

Two coppers for a ride

I take not your body

But your very essence of being

No skin, no face, no bone.