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Death Soldier Poems | Death Poems About Soldier

These Death Soldier poems are examples of Death poems about Soldier. These are the best examples of Death Soldier poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Rhyme | |

My Little Soldier Boy

Gary, you are my little soldier boy,
who died on Veteran's Day. ('83)
My sunny, golden-haired soldier boy,
that I still miss in every way.

You had just turned 13,
getting interested in girls.
When CF took you from me,
my heart, like a flag, unfurled.

You fought CF with every breath.
For 13 years you tried.
And four lung collapses later,
after each one, I said, 
"Son, you will survive."
Oh, how I lied!

Now, no more hugs and kisses,
No more birthday wishes,
I watched you go
and please God know,
Heaven, receive my treasure.


Author Note:  This poem was written in memory of my son, Gary,
who died of Cystic Fibrosis at 13, in 1983.  I honor my soldier who so valiantly
fought his fight on the battlefield of a life threatening lung disease, which fills the lungs with sticky mucus and makes it difficult to breathe. With all CF children, 
they struggle with every breath they take just to breathe! My son eventually 
started to have lung collapses. He had four before the last one took his young life  on Veteran's Day weekend in 1983..(Read my poem "A rainbow Glitters") 

I wouldn't be a poet today, if not for my son. He was diagnoses at age three.
As I sat by his hospital bed crying, I reached into my purse for a tissue, but 
instead, I pulled out a pen. I thought to myself, "Ok, God, I get the message.
You want me to write and not cry." So I wrote my first poem that night, "Not 
MY Son!"  Which eventually got published in Elizabeth Kubler Ross' Book "On Children and Death." Later, I wrote humorous poems to entertain my son, who
was often to sick to go to school.  And I'm still writing my poems today. 
 



 


Details | Rhyme | |

Soldier

I saw a burial with a bugler playing taps;
I turned to my father, “what happened?” I asked.
He clutched my hand and with a quiver in his voice,
he began to explain and his eyes became moist.

“My son,” he said, “this is rather difficult for me;
for an old veteran like myself this is tough to see.
In that coffin lies a genuine patriotic warrior,
an honest-to-God hero, an American soldier.

I appreciate that soldier and the service he gave,
and I honor his sacrifice as he’s laid in his grave.
He was honorable, selfless, courageous, and bold;
please remember him son, as you grow old.

The value of his service, I must explain,
if not remembered, will be lost in vain.
As a nation we’re nothing without soldiers like him;
and failing to remember would be a terrible sin.”

I listened in awe as my father spoke,
it seemed as if his heart were broke.
I suddenly remembered when he went to war,
and when he returned I thought nothing more.

I never asked why he walked with a limp,
and I didn’t care about why he was sick.
I was too busy enjoying the life that I had,
to realize that I had it because of dad.

I finally understood what my dad was about,
and it hurt so bad I cried out loud.
He sacrificed so much so I could be free,
and his battle scars were suffered for me.

It was my father’s spirit that spoke to me that day;
thank God I finally understood what he had to say.
I saluted his coffin as they laid him to rest,
and I thought about the medals pinned on his chest.

That I didn’t honor him sooner, I will always regret;
and I pledged that day to never again forget.
I’m proud that my dad was a patriotic warrior;
I’m honored to be the son of an American soldier. 


Details | Quatrain | |

Soldier Boy

Once there was a soldier boy,
young and brave and smart.
He had some questions bugging him,
they tore his brain apart.

He went along to ask his friends-
''Why there can't be peace?''
They just laughed into his face,
''Let us tell you what peace means:

';Peace means love, peace means hope
peace means painless, fearless trust.
There's no love, there's no hope,
all the fearless lay in dust.''

He went along to ask the trees,
the plants and flowers too.
Then they all replied to him
''Answers we have few:

People kill themselves and us,
they cut us up for fire.
And with the fire that they cut
the tension becomes higher.''

Soldier boy then went to war,
questions still in mind.
He kept on searching in the field,
for answers he can't find.

He walked up to the enemy,
beat starts to increase.
''Tell me, good man, tell me please 
why there can't be peace?''

The man pointed his gun to him,
aiming to his heart.
''I'm sorry, young man,'', then he said
''I really hate this part.''

---

Once there was a soldier boy,
young and smart and brave.
He had some questions bugging him,
they took him to his grave.


Details | Rhyme | |

Field of Flowers and Stones

Lasting memories haunt a tearful mind
How distant the dreams that no one now owns
Etched marble, another name to remind
Lay in silent fields of flowers and stones

To search for days that will never be
and unearth youthful years that quickly passed
To stand in a field where soldiers are free
and know their torment is over at last

Eyes flow freely at a stone to behold
Brushing her hand across a marble name
Her fingers tremble for a son she can't hold
and years she will live with pain she will claim

Handed a flag that eight soldiers did fold
Knowing that her son will never grow old


Details | Verse | |

They Call

Moans echo across the lands
from the souls who are lost
drifting, searching, seeking 
forever doomed to exile.

Some brought down in their prime
foully murdered by sharpened steel
plunged into them with hatred.
Or maybe by plain greed.

Soldiers killed in needless wars
all for the rape of the innocent.
Governments hungry for more
oil, gold and other things.

Yes too, the souls of creatures
many now extinct voice their
sorrow with despairing moans.
That echo into our minds and hearts.

Mingling together they strike fear
that judders in our very being.
As we huddle in our beds shivering
knowing it is us who caused this damage 


Details | Free verse | |

A SOLDIER- I WAS

Lonely I was when I stood staring at the sky
Had a gun in my hand, was too afraid to cry
Fought bitter battles and never lived to tell
How at the altar of freedom, my body fell

My soul searches for reasons as to why I died
Did I save my people, had I tried?
Do they remember me, my deeds, my name
Are they proud of me or did I bring them shame

My battered body stood testimony to my fate
My heart had stopped in a battle brought about by hate
I had screamed in pain, and shivered with fright
But before I died, I did put up a fight

Remember me, my beloved country
It was I, my men, who brought you victory
I fought to the last bullet in my gun
I was a soldier, I was your son


Details | Sapphic stanza | |

Embattled Forest

Embattled Forest –

Springtime stabs and bleeds upon wooden helmets,
Thawing stolid firs that are locked in columns
Drowning down the mountainside, killing saplings.
Rooted in darkness.


Details | I do not know? | |

A Soldier Coming Home

He received the call in the middle of the night,
be to work by sunrise, you'll be taking a flight.
Go to a land where freedom will rise,
men will stand proud and wipe tears from their eyes.
Suicide bombers for a man who controlled,
brutality to the people, dignity he had stole.
The soldier would travel to a far distant land,
where oil was vass and towns made on sand.
He fought for his country, he life sealed with fate,
his family remembers  the call on this date.
It was warm in Sepember, he was out on patrol,
explosives were used and would  soon take its toll.
He fought the good fight for freedom was sought,
much food and some water, America brought.
But he would come home boxed with a flag draped on top,
violence was something that he tried to stop.
He left earth the hero, he had fought with much pride,
Joined Jesus in heaven, and walked at his side.


Details | Rhyme | |

Soldier

Gail Doyle Contest Name Writing A Heartfelt Poem To A Soldier Soldier I am proud you went to war, to fight those evil ones, May God protect you keep you safe, Till homeward bound you come. May you sidestep death and slaughter, Return yet to your mum, And find love as you oughta, With the sound of battle done, So changed so thrust to manhood, To be the serious one, Sadness dims the dark of night, Good friends, where death has come..


Details | I do not know? | |

Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom

(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)



Solomon Mahlangu: My Blood will Nourish the Tree that will Bear the Fruits of Freedom:



Solomon Mahlangu was trained as an MK soldier with a view to later rejoining the struggle in the country.


He left South Africa after the Soweto Uprising of 1976 when he was 19 years old, and was later chosen to be part of an elite force to return to South Africa to carry out a mission commemorating the June 16th 1976 Soweto student uprising.


After entering South Africa through Swaziland and meeting his fellow comrades in Duduza, on the East Rand (east of Johannesburg), they were accosted by the police in Goch Street in Johannesburg.


In the ensuing gun battle two civilians were killed and two were injured, and Mahlangu and Motloung were captured while acting as decoys so that the other comrade could go and report to the MK leadership.


Motloung was brutally assaulted by the police to a point that he suffered brain damage and was unfit to stand trial, resulting in Mahlangu facing trial alone.


He was charged with two counts of murder and several charges under the Terrorism Act, to which he pleaded not guilty.


Though the judge accepted that Motloung was responsible for the killings, common purpose was argued and Mahlangu was found guilty on two counts of murder and other charges under the Terrorism Act.


On 15 June 1978 Solomon Mahlangu was refused leave to appeal his sentence by the Rand Supreme Court, and on 24 July 1978 he was refused again in the Bloemfontein Appeal Court.


Although various governments, the United Nations, International Organizations, groups and prominent individuals attempted to intercede on his behalf, Mahlangu awaited his execution in Pretoria Central Prison, and was hanged on 6 April 1979.


His hanging provoked international protest and condemnation of South Africa and Apartheid.


In fear of crowd reaction at the funeral the police decided to bury Mahlangu in Atteridgeville in Pretoria.


On 6 April 1993 he was re-interred at the Mamelodi Cemetery, where a plaque states his last words:


‘My blood will nourish the tree that will bear the fruits of freedom.

Tell my people that I love them.

They must continue the fight.’



Mahlangu died for a cause!



Salute!



The Struggle Continues…




(special thanks to a friend who shared this tribute to Solomon Mahlangu)


Details | Epitaph | |

The Unknown Soldier

I stand at your grave.
I do not know your name.
I know not where you are from.
Where you fought,
nor where you died.

The horrors and pain you suffered,
were not in vain.
The death and destruction brought you pain.

I weep at your grave,
for the life you gave.
I weep for the Mother,
that gave you that life.

I kneel before your grave.
I bow my head in gratitude to you,
The Unknown Soldier.
Forever Remembered.


Details | I do not know? | |

Chris Kyle the Great Sniper

Before you read this poem, I would like to invite you in reading about the great American sniper hero. I am also dedicating this to the fallen sniper because he is a true Patriotic Hero. Thank you.

Chris Kyle was and still is loved by many, this to be true I say
I always believe him to be, a great sniper to this undying day.
Why must things happen to people, that are always so kind
Life would be better keeping some, alive alongside mankind.

Why don’t I tell you a story, about this very kind honest fellow
He was and is an U.S. Navy Seal, but along that chill and mellow.
The most lethal sniper known of, in American military history
With a very high percentage confirmed kills, quite the victory.

At the young age of eight, his father taught him how to shoot
A great father teaching a son, instead of giving him the boot.
A bronco rider for the rodeo, sadly gave it up for a serious injury
It was to his arm although he still lived, with very great dignity.

Being a great sniper had an effect, putting souls to their bed
Eventually somewhat famous, an increasing bounty upon his head.
Undoubtedly dubbed the “Devil of Ramadi”, by non-other than Iraqi
An increasing bounty shot twice, but his body and will still intact.

After a while serving his country, he retired heading home graciously
Taking back some long spent  time, spending it with his family.
Chris Kyle a loved husband, a friend to many and a beloved son
His homeland now saddened, for America has lost a patriotic one.

A great warrior indeed, in my opinion our greatest honorable hero
He put his life on the line, instead of becoming the common zero.
The greatest treasure of all, came from within himself to prove
That all humans aren’t wrongful, but that we all can improve.


Details | Rhyme | |

Kingdom Lost

In summertime, the ivy climbs,
and hides the castle wall.
The king dreams of late,
that the sea is so great,
and yet - his boat is so small.
As swift as a fox and
dark as a raven on wing,
seven hundred soldiers march  
into the valley of the king.
Long overdue, a battle ensues
flanking the powers that be.
Children cry, and good men die, 
the monarch is now on his knee…
Soon the horsemen alone 
try to maintain the throne.
But the long way around
is the shortest way home.
The evening is filled
with chaos and smoke,
and the kingdom is 
stunned by it all…
Soon the sun will go down,
and in spite of his crown, 
the king will undoubtedly fall…
His rival’s strength
was mistaken,
by a king overtaken,
his life is now but a pawn.
His authority lifted,
the power has shifted –
an era of glory is gone…
 
 
Copyright © 2013
 


Details | Ode | |

For Thomas

I'm walking out into the gorgeous summer day
and I feel nothing at all;
not the warmth of the sun,
the melodies of songbirds,
nor the cars driving by my street
who haven't the slightest clue of what just transpired
a mere twenty minutes ago.
Yeah, since the news came to me
not one lighthearted thought comes to mind.

I'm in the back of the store, doing dishes to pass the time
and I can't help but wander if anyone notices
the blooming roses on my cheeks.
They'd probably say something encouraging like
"Way to attack those dishes!".
Believe me it's not for efficiency's sake,
I'm MAD, and it just so happens to bring emphasis
to the saying "Use a little elbow grease".
Anymore and I might just a punch a hole through the plastic...

Yeah, since the news came to me
things became way too real.
I no longer felt like radiation that refuses to leave the atmosphere.
No I felt much more akin to a ticking time bomb
in the middle of the Sahara desert.
I could die at anytime
and it wouldn't matter what I was doing:
Sitting on the sofa, devouring a bag of Lays
and then passing out on salt overdose,
Or walking my dog because the weather was nice,
and then crossing paths with a baseball sized meteorite.
I try to stick to the bright side of things,
but the fact remains you died too soon, Tom.
I wonder what flashed through you head
just seconds before driving over that IED.
In a selfish way I'd like to think you thought of me
in those final moments, but I know that's silly.
If I was a piece in your day-to-day life
you would need a microscope
to even notice I was there at all.

As I sit here writing this
I recall the time we watched Texas Chainsaw Massacre,
on Halloween night in the old Stonehouse.
We thought that was gory then,
but it's most likely child's play to the stuff
you must have seen in the last three years.
The saddest thing of all for me
is something irrefutably petty,
but it comes to mind nonetheless.
You paid for my movie ticket
when we went and saw The Dark Knight.
I remember how sure and confident I was when I beamed
"I'll pay you back for this. Next time I see you!".
Well that ship has long since sailed.
Perhaps someday we'll meet again, mate,
but for now it's just a waiting game.
And today that feels like the game where nobody wins
it's just something we play...



NOTE: Two days ago I found out a good friend of mine died in Afghanistan. He was a soldier, and barely four years older than me...


Details | Free verse | |

If Old Men Fought

An old man looking out his door,
gaze fixed on a distant shore,
reminiscing to a time, not of happiness,
or, the prospect of a bright future,
to when he was sick to his very core,
to when as a youth, he went to war

A time before infallibility had meaning,
patriotism and bravado the craze,
the future was still unknown,
vigor for life at its all time high,
a time for romance, partying, buying,
no thought of pain, deformity, dying

Too young to understand or question,
ship to foreign shore, medals abound,
will impress the girls next time in town,
sacrifice not temporary,
forever more,
a legacy etched into a wall, few will remember,
flesh shredded, burned, torn,
families mourn

A time, when he willingly went to war,
will happen no more,
all lost in youth, now unrelenting,
no blind obedience,
minimal risk,
long life, his number one ambition

As he turns back from the door,
he thinks of the youth,
here now, soon no more,
lessons never learned,
the call to war,
to common the roar,
complacency the mood,
another generation removed

The old man agonizes
over what was originally not known,
war is preventable,
life too precious to waste,
the solution simple,
his vision, maybe too late

Send old men to the front to fight,
arthritis, heart disease, poor eyesight,
let the youth enjoy their life,
his near over, its only right

Send old men, to the front, to fight
ask them to give up their life,
patriotism and bravado, still alive,
will and desire would not last the night,
old men do not rush to death in their twilight,
failure inevitable, the old man smiles,
knows he's right

Wars not possible,
if old men, are sent to fight


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

What Happened

As you ended our video call,
You suited up,
Helmet,
Armor,
Gun.
Just another day in that god forsaken place,
As soon as you stepped off the plane it felt like being in an oven.
But hey,
What did you expect.
The boys and you all load up into the Humvee and take off with the rest of the Caravan.
Just another day.
Just another day…
There wasn’t supposed to be an explosion.
There weren’t supposed to be screams.
There wasn’t supposed to be any blood shed.
It was supposed to be just another day.
But all of that did happen.
And you were taken away from me and Mom and Dad and our little sister,
In an instant.
You were supposed to come home.
We were supposed to celebrate your birthday together,
Our sister baked you a cake for when you came home.
But… now you can’t,
And you won’t,
Ever again.
Because you’re gone.
And you can’t ever come back.
But know that we love you,
Know that I love you,
Know that I loved you, My Brother.
Most Importantly know that we miss you,
every waking moment.
Because you’re gone,
And we’ll never see you again.
Did I tell you Mom and Dad still pay your phone bill?
They pay,
So that we can hear your voice on your voicemail recording when we miss you.
I call,
Everynight.


Details | Haiku | |

Fallen

brave fallen soldiers   
sacrificing young men's blood
red poppies whither 


Details | Limerick | |

Anzac Day

It's Anzac Day today
Or lads were sent away
To fight a war
And what the hell for
Because they had to pay


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

The Duchess Of Paradise

She's highly sophisticated and full of undefiled wisdom
Yet a crowned Duchess in a paradise kingdom
Quite a beautiful angel flying with black wings
Covered in gold jewelry and precious things
She dresses like the women of ancient Egyptian class
Her wealth is generous and her money grows like grass
She loves orange scented candles with dark room flame  
She rules thirty legions of soldiers and Bune is her name
Her comely warrior voice can wake and relocate the dead
Her armies of soldiers gather around the cemetery
She is brave and deserves a princessly crown on her head
Her facility of speech and flair for words is legendary
A beautiful queen to be treated with respect and honor
Instead of blasphemy,wanton abuse and fictional horror


Details | I do not know? | |

Fast FOOD care

seat.
belt.
tick.
ets.

stay.

And Boy you Best Stay buckled in
or so help me.

And Girl you Best Make him
or so help me

does my saint-y mama 
want to die before me.

does my useless papa 
just want my useless money.


Details | Rhyme | |

Friendly Fire

       
I took my arm i wore my shield
Got Sown in the unknown field
In the name of peace we stand
Playing a role we do not understand
Anthems of the flock ringing in my ears
They all do not know but have been told
Noise of agony filled my hearing
Scenes of doom tore my being
I see visions of my abandoned home
O son will i ever see you grown?
Pulled back for an instant..
Keep on marching before they get you whining
Brothers in arms were we?!
Friendly fire got me..


Details | Rhyme | |

An Amulet of Peace

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
An AR16 rifle in my hands….
Seemed like such a paradox,
In the paddies and jungles of Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
A man’s life was in my hands….
That life was not only mine,
While trying to survive in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
Hoping for guidance by God’s hand….
Ignore our sin, keep us alive and safe,
While fighting in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
My duffel bag in my hand….
After 13 months, I was going home,
No more to fight in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
An Honorable Discharge in my hand….
Only to be spat upon, called ‘baby killer’,
By ‘peaceniks’ against the war in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace no longer hung ‘round my neck,
The challenge of a new life was at hand….
Found love, happiness and some success,
And tried not to think of Vietnam.

Again, that same amulet of peace hangs ‘round my neck;
And I hope my friends all understand….
I want our courageous young men and women
Out of Iraq and Afghanistan.


Details | Limerick | |

Good Soldier Down

Another good soldier is down.
He was dead before he hit the ground.
His name is Diego.
He is from Key Largo.
His soul is now heaven bound.


Details | Rhyme | |

4 - Messenger from the Dead

Alas there is no more confusion,
finally found my last conclusion.
Expect me as if Jesus will return,
from a ghost to a realm of concern.

Your dreams are portals like doors,
welcoming spirits into hasten wars.
Leaving the thoughts without trust,
keeping your fears in much disgust.

And though you sought no consequence,
deeds that confirm a wicked malevolence.
Awaiting in your nightmare of screams,
enjoy what is left amongst your dreams.


Details | Free verse | |

Welcome Home

<
WELCOME HOME
My precious son, welcome home
Let me hold you, embrace you, for you are not alone
My how you’ve changed, what battle has done
From serving your country, my soldier son

Your shoulders are broader, your face is like stone
Your hands are all battered, ankles worn to bone
You’ve shed lots of blood, and flood many tears
For you are a man, who’s truly faced fears

You’ve done the unthinkable, and have taken a life
And prayed for the courage, to do it in strife
You’ve lost many brothers, in battle abroad
And know that they rest, in a place next to God

I know who you are, because Im the same man
Now sit back and listen, while I hold your hand
I’ll tell you a tale, of freedom and pride
For I am God’s son, like you I have died

You see I’ve been a soldier, since the beginning of time
Fighting for good, my mission divine
I’ve died for Gods children, which you too have done
Your master is thankful, my soldier son

You were not blessed, with riches or gold
But with gifts much greater, than can ever be sold
You see god made you, with one mission in mind
To protect his creation, your mission divine

I know you have scars, that run deep inside
That man cannot see, but from me they can’t hide
Now hand me those burdens, in me you confide
Lay them at my feet, I’ll wear them with pride

Your mission is over, so lets take you home
To meet our great father, the man on the throne
He loves you so much, for what you have done
I welcome you home, my soldier son

Rhett Connolly, Author>


Details | Free verse | |

Whistle

Running, after more than you, can hold.
Taking, someone else’s love, and leaving.
Children are fearful of what they’re told.

Can’t you see I’m the one who’s freezing?
I was just a child with a trinket 
Never knowing that it’d be, more to me

When you were gone to, too far, from me.
Steady with your hands close to my heart
Never letting our world’s tear us apart

I know, your icicles 
I miss the beaches that we played on
You missed the child in your own eyes

Now you’re gone, 
But I’m still not here.
Why can’t you wake up 

I’m not ready
Please, just take your time, don’t leave now
I can’t fight this world alone.


Details | Rhyme | |

A Soldier's Nightmare

It’s late at night,
And yet again it’s time to fight.
Fight for our families and fight for freedom,
To fight for right, is that a good enough reason?

To kill so many said to be our rival, 
We did it for our own survival.
Unsure if it was a selfish act,
Now the nightmares come crawling back.  

Nightmares of soldiers, planes and gunfire too,
Explosions, fires, and barb wires be thankful it’s not you.  
And in time our grandchildren will tell us,
War, it’s wasteful and ridiculous.
We will never live a normal life again,
Until this war has come to an end.	
And even then, who knows when?


Details | Lyric | |

To young to die

Too young to die


They take a boy, too young to shave
Who has never lived his life
While his mates are chasing girls
They fill his life with strife
They send him off to a brand new war
Over some damned fools Ideal
I don’t understand their wars
And I guess I never will


The folk who like to run the show
Or most of them at least
Have never even been to war
They’ve never felt the beast
As he rips right into one’ intestines
That hollow hole of fear!
Each leader should be sent to war
Then the picture might grow clear


Then when they send young boys to war
They’ll see the whole damned show
The weight of endless terror
 And then maybe they’ll know
What it’s like as a fine young man
To be sent out there to die
He might then know, how a mother feels
When she’s lost her little guy.

1 August 2013 @ 1443hrs.


Details | Rhyme | |

Prayer For A Dying Soldier

Prayer For A Dying Soldier 

Rest now my brother;
In a field of peace.
Your job is finished;
You are released.

The sacrifice you gave;
was a noble gift.
At ease my brother;
It is the end of your shift.

Take comfort brother;
In a job well done.
May your journey be blessed;
To the lands beyond the sun.

Like a warrior;
You return home with respect.
You gave your life;
For those you protect.

My gratitude for you;
For putting your life on the line.
To never be forgotten;
By those you leave behind.

Darlene Doll Smith


Details | Haiku | |

What People Were and What People Are

People were
Many things.
Strange or not

People were
Different and
Odd and fun.

People were
Monsters but…
That’s not all

People were
And still are
Strange and odd.

People are
People. For
life is life. 

Yet not.
Not is lies.
Truth seeps from

Every mouth
Lies, lies, lies
Move, move, move

But somehow
Lies prevail.
Lies are life.

Lies are death.
Lies are homes.
Lies are pain.

Lies are truth.
Yet somehow.
Truth prevails.

Truth is life.
Truth is death.
Truth is home.

Truth is pain.
Truth is lie.
Truth is that.

Lies will die.
Lies will cease.
Nevermore.

Truth will live.
Truth will be.
Forever.