By wind and rain, at land and sea,
From desert heat to arctic cold,
Never forget the sacrifices of thousands told,
Of fallen fellow’s dreams that come back to our hold.
Nothing can halt them;
No stars like strangers or foreign lands,
They will always find a way to hold our hands.
By tears at night or machine gun fights,
Their ghostly faces bathed in moonlight.
The memories of smiles; their faded time sighs,
In lined pillars of heaven they lie,
While pained, strangled souls yell on the frontline,
The ashes on the wind, frozen moments in time.
Widow’s tears sting in the breeze that whips poppies in their bloody red seas,
Scores of battles ever lasted memories shine,
Lest our hearts forget that sorrow etched inside,
Of the millions of souls who needlessly died.
Our freedom is sacrosanct, but the price is too great;
For this life, our freedom shall never negate.
