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Martyrion: An Original Song

Martyrion is a work that took me some time to complete. I believe I found the tune and the first few stanzas sometime during the fall of my freshman year in college, but I did not finish it until my junior year. I was quite satisfied, however, with the end result, and it remains one of my favorite pieces to date. The bittersweet paradox of autumn, the beauty of dying things, struck me as a wonderful analogy for the paradox of martyrdom, the beauty of dying for Christ. I have included the lyrics of the song here, but I highly recommend listening to it through the embedded video below: songs are far better experienced when heard rather than read. I intend to make the sheet music available for purchase soon, so please reach out to me if you would like a copy of Martyrion!

Through leaves the wind its breath does send,
The leaves are sweetly sighing,
For we are at the summer’s end
And the leaves are deeply dying.

The cold clear sun kindles the trees,
The leaves are brightly burning,
For summer from the autumn flees
And the leaves are terribly turning.

And ‘midst this scene of beauteous strife,
I find myself recalling
The martyrs of God who gave up their life
And rose to their vict’ry by falling.

A mighty wind moans in the trees,
Their limbs are sadly shaking,
For autumn blows, the foliage flees,
And the trees are coldly quaking.

No leaf yet green will not turn brown,
Man’s death is dread’ly waiting,
And both will fade into the ground,
When they find their strength abating.

And yet, the martyrs know that their strength
Is greatest in their last hour:
For God in their weakness shows the length
And the breadth of His almighty power.

A gust brings grief amid the trees,
The leaves are crying, calling;
Like wind-swept embers, all of these
Are October’s jewels falling.

The leaves have lost their sap of green,
They’re thin and frail and gently glow;
Just so, the martyr’s final scene
Is like a stained-glass window.

The shiv’ring air is now laid bare,
The forest lets the sun shine through,
And all the saints, howe’er they fare,
Show the face of Christ in clearest hue.

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October 22, 2025 by Joshua Butek Filed Under: Joshua's Writings, Poetry, Songs Tagged With: autumn, fall, leaves, martyrs, poetry, songs

Previous Post: « The Dance of Seasons: A Poem
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Dedicated to the
Sacred and Eucharistic
Heart of Jesus,
the Sorrowful and Immaculate
Heart of Mary,
and the Chaste and Obedient
Heart of St. Joseph.

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