Poetry

PRAYER FOR THE FALLEN

I saw a soldier kneeling down,

for this was the first quiet place he had found.

He had travelled through jungles, rivers and mud

He'd tasted sweat and shed his blood.

He folded his hands and looked to the sky

I saw his tears, as they welled in his eyes.

He spoke to God, and this is what he said.

"God Bless my men, who now lie dead; 

I know not what You have in mind,

but when You judge them, please be kind

when they come before You, they will be poorly dressed

but they'll walk proudly, for they have done their best.

Their boots will be muddy and their clothes all torn

but these clothes they have so proudly worn.

Their hearts will be still and cold inside,

for they have fought their best and did so with pride.

So please take care of them as they pass Your way

the price of freedom they've already paid.

AMEN!

                                                                             Anon

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