Aphotic Rapture

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I am the airborne man
The watchful guardian,
Sentinel of a land not mine
Sitting, I watch the black sea beneath
The behemoth of fear
Her aphotic depths, monstrous

I am the traveling warrior
Perched within my craft
Caring to the man
With an unbiased eye
Man, the colossus of war
A haunting nature, plagued with perish

I am the worn legionnaire
Marching in the marshlands
Of this far away place
I carry in my hands, plague
An instrument in which I protect
In which I use to annihilate
To which I send the misfortunate to rapture

I am the lost minded walker
Losing a bit more of my sane
With every pull of a trigger
With every step on this foreign abyss
You might hear my shouts
As my pain digs deeper
I was once a holy man,
My conviction to retribution faded

I am the hallow ghost
I carry the symbol of mine
The hammer, and sickle
Instruments of power, dabbed in red
To represent the blood we have shed
I have fought, and failed at home
Yet by my word, I will ensure
The fascists will be sent spiraling
Into their own aphotic rapture