SCOUT'S LAMENT
I walk out front where the silence screams,
Readin’ the dark for the death it seems.
A bent blade of grass, a stone out of place,
Danger’s a whisper I’m trained to face.
The trail’s my burden, the night’s my load,
Each step’s a secret the earth bestowed.
No fire to warm me, no voice to call,
Just me and the quiet, outrunnin’ the fall.
Scout’s lament, in the lonesome air,
Carryin’ warnings no soul should bear.
I read the wind, I read the ground,
I walk for the lost till the lost are found.
A crow’s sharp cry cuts the valley’s hush,
A bootprint’s shadow in the riverbed’s slush.
I mark the signs with a knot in my gut,
The scout walks alone when the gates are shut.
The frost on the ridge paints a traitor’s map,
Each crack in the earth hides a hunter’s trap.
I move like a ghost, with a knife in my hand,
The scout’s only friend is the lay of the land.
Scout’s lament, where the shadows creep,
I carry the weight while the others sleep.
One sign, one breath, one truth to send,
I’ll scout till the silence meets its end.
A snapped twig’s a signal, a shadow’s a knife,
One wrong step costs a man his life.
The night don’t care for the weight I bring,
But I walk for the ones who can’t hear it sing.
Scout’s lament, where the shadows creep,
I carry the weight while the others sleep.
One sign, one breath, one truth to send,
I’ll scout till the silence meets its end.
I’ll scout till the silence… meets its end.