Martyrs

It's not a very common thing for me to write a new song these days. But the muse started smacking me upside the head tonight. I know that sounds painful, but it's cool.

In Alma, Chapter 14, in the Book of Mormon, it tells the story of Alma and Amulek witnessing the burning of the scriptures and the believers in a horrific place of martyrdom. At one point, Amulek suggests they use the power of God to stop the carnage, and Alma says that the Spirit of God is holding him back, saying that they're being welcomed up unto God in Glory. That thought always stuck with me. From our point of view, here on earth, these scenes of humans mistreating and murdering other humans is terrifying and saddening. From God's perspective, he's welcoming them home, knowing that they held firm to their beliefs.

So, I wanted to write a song about the martyrs in and for the Book of Mormon, but more from that more joyful perspective. I'm imagining that I'm one of the angels called up into the choir to welcome them back.

It's a work in progress. The middle verse, about Haun's Mill, needs some work. I did some research, but it's tough to sum it all up in six lines. I'll keep redoing it all and gel it all together.


Martyrs

By Mark Hansen
7/19/09

The fires rise high on a moonless night
Marked by shouts and cries of fright
The scriptures burning up in ash and smoke

As they throw the scared believers in
Two men think to stop the din
But a still voice whispers, "No", to let them go

Chorus
They've stood up to the last
Their sorrows now have past
Their souls are rising fast
And I'll join with the choirs and sing
And sing the martyrs home

It's just about 4:00 when the men ride in
The time for the truce was at an end
In the blacksmith's shop they ready their final stand

The riders surround and open fire
And in the end, when they retire
The blood of eighteen souls is on their hands

Chorus
Who stood up to the last
Whose sorrows now have past
Their souls are rising fast
And I'll join with the choirs and sing
And sing the martyrs home


In an Illinois Jail, four men wait
For the end of the story brought by fate
One man sings a hymn in the evening sun

A shouting mob rushes up the stairs
Bullets fly and bullets tear
And a prophet and his brother's lives are done

Chorus
And they've stood up to the last
Their sorrows now have past
Their souls are rising fast
And I'll join with the choirs and sing
And sing the martyrs home


MRKH
Mark Hansen
http://markhansenmusic.com