Honor Bound

Honor Bound



The mists in ghost-like silence rise
revealing rows of marbled stone.
I feel the tears whelm in my eyes
for many bear names I have known.

Here lies the strength of our great land
who sacrificed, in peace and war,
their very lives so I might stand
in freedom’s light that they paid for.

Here lie the young that healed a nation,
blue and grey, now joined in death,
who suffered through depths of privation,
uniting us with their last breath.

The darkness of the world at war
could not dim our nation’s light.
We lived up to the oaths we swore
and fought} back the coming night.

From Normandy to Afghanistan,
though our weapons have come far,
we still measure cost, man by man.
Each loss leaves a permanent scar.

We celebrate our victories
with rockets lighting up air.
We pay homage in our histories.
We give tribute and say we care.

Our hero’s lie in sacred ground
for the honor they have earned.
I listen but I hear no sound
of the lessons they have learned.

Yes, each man felt duty bound
protecting this land of freedom’s birth
but in their silence, they expound
the ideal of peace on the earth.

No sword’s been turned to plowshare
nor has tolerance been embraced.
Those who cry that we should care
are called weak, their names disgraced.

The mists in ghost-like silence rise
revealing rows and yet - I fear.
I feel the tears whelm in my eyes
for the names that aren't yet here.

Arlington National Cemetery, 2013


Notes:
An entry for the Round 107 of "Invalid Item" 

privation ~ lack of the usual comforts or necessaries of life

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