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Poetry: Freedom

Freedom shall forever rest,
upon the shoulders of those who
unfailingly meet the test,
and with the gift of a year or two

spent in faraway places, ever so far
doing the work others will not do,
their mission is known, and on par
with ancestral guidance, do they renew

vows of loyalty to those left behind,
those same others who but for the grace,
of their God, and firmness of mind,


would be beside me in this place

This place of no name, no value it seems
but for the prayers that fortify me,
and the hopes and the dreams,
are but all I need, and all I shall see

as a rigorous struggle saps of my vigor,
my courage uplifts, my spirit unsagging,
I think of the brandy, want only a jigger,
the guns afire now, they seem unflagging

a supreme test of will on the battlefield grows,
into the the belly of the beast I go,
with hands shaking, with strength one only knows,
who has been there before, one who may show

men such as me, the path of righteousness,
where a flag flies high, and proudly so,
where but a single moment of carelessness,
delivers us to the enemy, in a violent show

of death to a nation, and it's people unbound,
this will never happen, my promise is given,
to those who wait to hear the bugles sound
once more we push forward, with hearts driven

by the promises made, the vows that are kept
with no more than that with which we came,
the battle is won, but not while we slept,
by the dawn's early light, and with no shame

the pride and the honor of a country restored,
and I, yes I, now understand with mind so clear,
a peoples safety has been so reassured,
and freedom too, is ever more clear

Were it not for men such as these,
were it not for their valor unfailing
would freedom blow upon the breeze,
the breeze that blows the ships a'sailing

Back to home, and to those we love,
to those who trusted in our ability
and as we hold our heads above,
in synchronous march of great utility

The pipes are blowing, the sounds so sweet
the dust, the grass, the trees so grand,
I hear the sounds of marching feet,
freedom abounds in this, my land

Learn more about this author, Stephen Atkinson.
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