As I walk the bloodied streets where they had bound my hands in chains

The soles of my boots splashed in flesh and streaming with blood-red stains

I ask myself, 'Who are they whom I've never seen before?'

The smell of death insults my lungs. I'm a prisoner of the war.

I hear a troubadour and sense his pain traumatic

His fingers play the harp, a warm voice all sympathetic

Singing, "Soldier, I know a prisoner of war" in German directly to me

My head connects with dirt and gravel; I am on bended knees

My voice is hoarse without need of words to try

The man's song coursing through me "Soldier, do not die!"

I may be a prisoner of war suffering with scarring wounds

And you shall drag me forward on rocks and dirt and dunes

But victory is in my grasp because my God has not forsaken

Nothing but clay that He molds together; your deeds are not mistaken

When i fainted and woke again, my eyes saw upside down

They hung me by my feet, whipping my back; I heard no sound

I see visions, dreams, paradise when my eyelids start to flutter

'Lord, take me away to Heaven. close this pain like a window-shutter.'

Sixty-two lines marked on my cell wall. No windows, no light, one Bible

The troubadour's song, I hear it finish. It is indescribable

All this blood shed for what; a way to be with power?

I am a soldier. I know this life. What of their families flower?

I learned to cease the questions I asked the walls and markings

I learned to check the water as I never see it sparkling

My cell door opens quickly. I arise thin and frail

The interrogation is starting; they know that they will fail

"Who are you hungry soldier? Why do you remain so calm?"

"I am a Prisoner of War. I rest in my God's palm."

"This God you speak of daily has failed to rescue you.

Do you wish to live in false hope tomorrow's day anew?"

As always, I answer with a smile and a whisper of a prayer

"My God who gives me life has so much He wants to share."

'Eight-eight beatings and interrogations later, one soldier accepted you Lord.

He was the worst of men. His whip struck like a sword.'

I will continue living until my mission is no more

This life I live as a Christian and a Prisoner of War