The Valley of Echoes

I - Echoes Call

In darkest night times

Marching to Echo’s Valley

The Dead moaning… go.

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Little is written of The Valley of Echoes

Though many have halted at Valley’s edge

For few there are that would wander further

Where only unsettled settle, looking to bed.

Won’t find peace here, vibrations sing gleely

This place is not for any finding ease

For when life is tortured and taken so freely

Here is where is paid, those signing karma’s lease.

Forever walking go these Leaders, night-marching

Out and about in long lines approached

Those knowing them past, in horror watching

Upon their path dark, none dare encroach.

Oh, do they beat their dark drums slowly

And moan their song so lowly

Walking, the dead march

As dried blood trails lead them on.

Taking them down to the misty Valley

Of Echoes never-ending

For their monotone wishes sending

Peaceful ending, rest for their Souls.

For blackest vibrations are their badged glory

Shrouded records, for what they’ve done

And no matter good intent

That marched so shining, before them won

Barbaric and feral rule were, their daily, worshiped Sun.

Torture and pain, their true badges of honor

Laughing, using up goodness, relished foods of choice

Drawing to themselves vast greedy, gold plunders

Writing their own dirge, they, with their own sour voice.

For now, the song that does drives them

All towards the Valley Echoing

From grave to sing there ever-after

Such sad and bitter songs

Comes from tears and blood, they splattered eating

Pissing on peace and wise allowance

Formed from their own ties to evil

As they bullied their awful wrongs.

So now yes, see what they all carry

Each, most terrible baggage

They thought to leave unpacked

When death, it finally comes.

Instead they join as one

Ghosts, gray parades of un-worthies

Kings and minions, hoping to find salvation

Forgiven horrors so amassed.

Feebly limping on their own spilled blood trails

They all to Valley’s entrance moaning

Deposit there such vile guilts

Kept away from truth in singing

Aloud echoing now, held aloft.

For any to hear in listening

Fate’s such black, bloody stories ending

Instead of praise, now shunning, quick away running

From repeating lessons, there as taught.

So, do the new slowly beat their dark drums slowly

And moan their true songs so lowly

Walking this dead moonless night too, nightly

Created dried blood trails leading them on.

Taking them down to the misted Valley

Joining Echoes never-ending

For combining their singing wishes, sending

Praying peaceful ending rest

For their black and lonely Souls.

So, you all finding such warriors wandering

On nights drifting, reflected in firelight

Slow on these night vigils moaning

Passing by in dumbed down file.

For see some now near, kin, here, sad begin you weeping

Thinking them lost, but still good, kindly men

Calling out to them, through generations crying

Memories pain adding, to their miseries felt then.

Rare there is any surprised nodding

That see you, as they in passing

Upon remembrance, from soul’s darkened center

Plead, ‘Please, come, hold me awhile’.

For they know well, in their dark hidden centers

Though good people pleading, still being lured

To be butchered under friendly banners

Children and friends thought, safe and secure.

I remember first finding them, their trail most surprising

In cracklin’ timber’s in the north, marching to another will

Somehow in passing, a few knew my name well

But nothing said, I frightened, stayed rigid, still.

And then again at trails end, way down in Louisiana

The deep swamps there, sang to me the same

From mists that formed out

They marching silent, through came

I recognized some faces, calling out one brother’s name.

No ‘Hello’ call returned

No ‘Hi, glad we met’

No hearty ‘Hail and be wells’

Just silent stares of deep regret.

Oh, did they there too beat their dark drums slowly

And moan their songs so deep and lowly

Walking their deadened march

On a dried blood trail, leading them on.

Taking them to a misty Valley

Of Echoes never-ending

Their plaintive wishes sending

Please, peaceful ending, rest, for their weary, guilty Souls.

So for years, traveling in highest mountain passes

In deep wilderness, lonely forests there also camped

Dry desert left no welcome sign out

Nor jungled greenery, wet and damp.

Though having stirred long past, partnering memories

Left I the connecting, harrowing song

Only years later in Hawaii, given understanding

For their shades passing, lonely, in silence right along.

For I found from Hawaiian storied sources

Trails too, where ghosts darkly marched past

Alone at night, I wandered out there

At Valley’s edge, I quietly sat.

Here too, they marched all silent, walking

Single file, slowly passing by

No loved one’s echoes, sang their praises highly

Quiet ruled dark, under moon-lit, sea-covering sky.

Warriors and chiefs, all dragging broken weapons

No parade band, marching them to fame

All tattered and torn, surprised, many glanced at me

Most nodded silently, knowing my name.

In allowance, recognized, only a solemn nod made

And then away, they silently went

From wherever they came, to where ever going

No singing, just soft quiet breezes

Cleaning, following, clearing as sent.

Mesmerized, surprised again, seeing many past brothers

Watching them ghostly pass, I out-loudly cried

Marching by without a sound

Memories flooded up, seeing how we all had died.

And dreams then quick assailed me

Traveling off I too did wander

Into mystic highlands now remembered

Back on my own lonely trail again.

Where Time it did enfold me

Wrapping stories over stories

Reassembling ancient mysteries

Many places traveled, back again.