Prescott Breeden

The Silent Fields


The wintry wind blows across silent field

Whispered moans of woe you can always hear

The power of God on this field did yield

An end to innocence with blood soaked tear

With faith waving banners and beating drum

Armed with swords and religious wrath

They marched and marched like the setting sun

On and on, down His blood soaked path

Two hundred years their blood they spilt

Bodies consumed in ash and rage

In seas of axe, shield sword and hilt

His holy war did cruelly wage

And in the end, their God they could not find

For all had died a faithless fate

Instead of farm and family kind

They rest in the grave of Heaven’s gate

The silent field wrapped with winters chill

Still deeply soaked in our Father’s blood

Could love ever mend His heart and fill

The graves of men with flower’s bud

The Dutchman

Upon a time there was a ship,

Which forsaken sailed in eternal night,

But score turned seven through time did slip,

And day was granted in the light,

To seek true love and find a name,

A name to mend a poisoned heart.

The captain’s nature was not innately bad,

Took years of suffering an unbearable pain,

The rose’s sharp thorns he grasped till mad,

Till his life, and all good, with the moon did wane,

It was then the curse ripped out his soul,

And the world of darkness he ne’er depart.

Bound by chains, shackled in torment,

Across the oceans of harrowing sorrows,

His ship a sign of evil portent

As he navigates the ghostly narrows.

“Look out! The storm, it now approaches,

Head thee well, now comes the Dutchman!”

The lightning cracks, the sails fly high

While thunder rumbles, the hulls of black

Thrust through ocean’s deep, the cry

Of the crew proclaim the Dutchman’s back.

“Find me a port for my aching bones!

Today I find my lost Diane.

“Her eyes in hell have shown me light,

I loved her deeper then the seven seas,

Even after she cast me from her sight.

It is she alone who can set me free.

Diane, if you can hear the voice in my breast,

Come find your knight and head his plea.”

Controlling the winds, his voice he sent

Across water and land, searching desperately

With a song of mourn and grief lament,

When softly it did land on the ear of beauty.

“I hear thee knight, I hear thy voice call,

Search for me on the cliffs by the sea.”

The ship furled its sails as it drew into land,

Bow first to the beach he finally made birth.

The Dutchman leaped and sunk his feet in the sand,

Where his heart did wail at the touch of soft earth,

Where his fathers and brothers had found their rest

Which the Dutchman yearned for in cypress chest.

He looked to the West and saw the cliffs so pure,

Their white rocks beamed with heaven’s radiant glow.

No longer the harsh salty spray could he endure,

Nor the greeting of his ship by vulture and crow.

The wound in his breast burned like spume in the bilge,

“I grow weary rolling six-sided bones with my Prince.”

He charged up the cliffs like a mighty ship’s bow,

“Father, God above, please revoke my damnation,”

A gale blew strong on his cheek and brow,

‘Twas his own black heart deterring his salvation.

It slowed and hindered the Dutchman’s climb,

And tore at his chest making him scream and wince.

There she was when he reached the cliff’s summit,

Wrapped in white silk and kneeling in prayer,

Her gorgeous brown hair caused his strength to plummet.

He felt the grimness of his dark despair,

As his emotions within clashed with apocalyptic roar,

Like ocean against the cliffs of his wretched eternity.

“From the lands of endless heat,

From the shores of unquenchable thirst,

From the islands in the deep,

From the valleys of frozen hearse,

From the pits of hells unspoken,

From the mountains of chains unbroken,

From the prison of a ship afar,

On the seas that have no stars,

Your love has found you and come at last.

Now turn and gaze at your heart’s reflection.”

His ability for evil was unsurpassed,

Still she saw his desire for God’s affection.

“Knight of Woe, please take my hand,

Let love fill our wings and set our souls free.”

He reached to her as his heart wrenched with pain,

“I have failed thee, maiden, for I cannot fight the fury,

Which consumes me and binds me to my eternal domain.”

He descended the cliffs, his emotions to bury,

“There is no salvation for my wicked life,

Away the ship; let me heed my plight.”

The tide pulled the ship with demonic force,

For the Dutchman’s time was drawing nigh.

She cried and prayed to the Gods of Norse,

“My love, my knight, I can hear your soul cry,

I will not let you sail to suffer alone.”

And with arms outspread, she dove from the heights.

She crashed through the depths and her body was gone,

The ocean moaned and climbed the hull’s wall,

The heavens shone bright, his curse she had won.

The Dutchman’s ship was dragged down with her fall,

To eternally bind them in the stars of spring.

So as the oceans calmed, the ship gone from trace,

Their spirits rose together with love and heaven’s grace.

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