My name is Life and he is dear to me.

He is my son and I see him upon the ground as if sleeping.

A quietness surrounds him as the morning light of a new day comes creeping.

Slowly his form becomes clearer as I walk a little nearer.

The shadows and darkness of the night begin to run and hide and attempt to disappear.

Upon the ground he lay as if sleeping.

The morning birds begin to sing but he doesn't hear them.

Coming closer to my son, the soldier, I come to see that he will never awaken to meet this day that comes creeping.

My son, the soldier, has had his last day with me.

No more would the bravdo of his youth push fear away.

No more would he laugh at death and challenge its fearsome way.

Now the long sleep caressed him and held him as if he lay there sleeping.

It is your time now to sleep, my son.

Sleep long, sleep deep, young son of mine, who will never see this day or sleep this night.

You won't be alone in your silent sleep my son.

Your friends will be coming to join you very soon, I'm afraid.

They too will sleep the long quiet sleep.

They too will die and leave me to mourn and cry the eternal cry.