Spoiler :
Requiem For Nathaniel Price:
Feelings swayed;
Paths crossed, betrayed.
Must I, the preacher;
Bear the sins of war?
We torched, we trembled;
We humped our hides over the rubble.
Only I escaped Congo;
My friends, left dead and assembled.
How must I feel?
The man who preaches of peaceful afterlife.
Safe and sound;
While other men buried to the ground.
It was I who was suppose to pray for their safe return;
It was my responsibility to pray for their heaven.
It was my duty to follow them to the grave;
Instead, I left those men for dead!
How was I to feel;
Knowing my family was safe?
How was I to feel;
Knowing of other families mourning?
Finally, my life was destined;
Pre-determined.
My family, weak and frail;
They could not live on without me.
Though as happy as we may seem;
My family must leave me.
Despise and scorn my wretched birth;
They will learn to grow strong on their own.
My life must perish in Congo;
Where my family will desert me.
There is no future here with me;
For I am a ghost, pleading for death.
Yet, why am I not the first to die?
Why must my youngest be the first to fly?!
Her innocence shined brightest among my children;
Her faith never to be wavered.
My youngest;
Saddened and dead.
I loved all my daughters equally;
Yet, Ruth May, may I ever be forgiven??
In Congo, being the lonely outcast is depressing;
Driving my family away with my mental instability.
I could not mourn for my child’s death yet;
I had to prove to my family once and for all that I was insane.
I can’t cry;
I must drive them away.
They will run, and God shall protect them;
For they are only victims of a tainted father.
Am I pitiful?
No. I am not the man to be pitied.
I left my men to die without salvation;
I led my youngest to her demise.
My child, buried;
My mind, decaying.
Slowly, a village is turning against me;
Slowly, my hunger continues to devour me.
One last act;
I must act!
Baptism;
It’s my only means to repent!
Into the river;
Into the mouths!
Those children;
Crucified!
Drive me out;
Drive me to the cross!
Char my body;
Let it burn!
God was never here;
God left me when I left my men!
I could only repent;
So I begged God to save a soul.
Save my darling, Ruth May;
Send me to grave!
Save my Darling, Ruth May;
Burn me to the cross!
She was never baptized;
God, please baptize my little angel!
She is innocent beyond compare;
While I live, pleading for death.
My soul came to Congo;
Wishing to cleanse my ghost!
Yet, I failed to understand;
In this place, my soul was banned.
Nostalgic as it may seem;
With the roars and tongues of angry men.
I feel at peace knowing;
They will hate a man who left another man.
The snakes hidden among the leaves;
The ants buried underneath the trees.
The owl begs for my soul;
And the only thought that I can see:
“Congo is a wonderful place to be”
Feelings swayed;
Paths crossed, betrayed.
Must I, the preacher;
Bear the sins of war?
We torched, we trembled;
We humped our hides over the rubble.
Only I escaped Congo;
My friends, left dead and assembled.
How must I feel?
The man who preaches of peaceful afterlife.
Safe and sound;
While other men buried to the ground.
It was I who was suppose to pray for their safe return;
It was my responsibility to pray for their heaven.
It was my duty to follow them to the grave;
Instead, I left those men for dead!
How was I to feel;
Knowing my family was safe?
How was I to feel;
Knowing of other families mourning?
Finally, my life was destined;
Pre-determined.
My family, weak and frail;
They could not live on without me.
Though as happy as we may seem;
My family must leave me.
Despise and scorn my wretched birth;
They will learn to grow strong on their own.
My life must perish in Congo;
Where my family will desert me.
There is no future here with me;
For I am a ghost, pleading for death.
Yet, why am I not the first to die?
Why must my youngest be the first to fly?!
Her innocence shined brightest among my children;
Her faith never to be wavered.
My youngest;
Saddened and dead.
I loved all my daughters equally;
Yet, Ruth May, may I ever be forgiven??
In Congo, being the lonely outcast is depressing;
Driving my family away with my mental instability.
I could not mourn for my child’s death yet;
I had to prove to my family once and for all that I was insane.
I can’t cry;
I must drive them away.
They will run, and God shall protect them;
For they are only victims of a tainted father.
Am I pitiful?
No. I am not the man to be pitied.
I left my men to die without salvation;
I led my youngest to her demise.
My child, buried;
My mind, decaying.
Slowly, a village is turning against me;
Slowly, my hunger continues to devour me.
One last act;
I must act!
Baptism;
It’s my only means to repent!
Into the river;
Into the mouths!
Those children;
Crucified!
Drive me out;
Drive me to the cross!
Char my body;
Let it burn!
God was never here;
God left me when I left my men!
I could only repent;
So I begged God to save a soul.
Save my darling, Ruth May;
Send me to grave!
Save my Darling, Ruth May;
Burn me to the cross!
She was never baptized;
God, please baptize my little angel!
She is innocent beyond compare;
While I live, pleading for death.
My soul came to Congo;
Wishing to cleanse my ghost!
Yet, I failed to understand;
In this place, my soul was banned.
Nostalgic as it may seem;
With the roars and tongues of angry men.
I feel at peace knowing;
They will hate a man who left another man.
The snakes hidden among the leaves;
The ants buried underneath the trees.
The owl begs for my soul;
And the only thought that I can see:
“Congo is a wonderful place to be”