7-6-06
|
The land time honors as sacred Is not where politicians fight, But where brave men stand together And wage war for what is right. I stood looking across that ancient field Where many decades before, Legions of men, in shedding their blood, Themselves to country swore. The sounds of the battle live on in the land, For she will always remember. Memory of her witness she won’t let die out— The witness of a bloody September. Late at night, when man is asleep, The land relives her story. She honors the men who died on her, She respects their fallen glory. Though mortals overlook the deeds done before —Forgetful and ungrateful as they be— Both Valhalla and I remember their names, For that day it almost received me. It is my honor to have fought with them, Even if history forgets our stand; For Lady Earth will never forget our story, And this will still be hallowed land. |
Don't even ask me to try to explain this one. Oh, that line right after I mention Valhalla, the "it" the narrator is referring to is also Valhalla. It was too many syllables to mention it by name again. For those of you who don't know, Valhalla is from Norse mythology, and it's where the spirits of slain warriors go. I really didn't have much inspiration for this poem; I just thought up the name and ran with it.