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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required At dawn of that ninth when shadows still clung, Against the harsh orders, a desperate song. Seventy thousand with bodies so frail, Surrendered on Bataan, a heartbreaking trail. No glorious charge but a choice born of need, To save those still breathing to plant a small seed Of hope in the darkness though bitter the cost, A sacrifice made lest all should be lost. Their belongings were stripped, their dignity torn, On roads choked with dust a new horror was born. The march of the living, a journey of dread, Where thirst was a torment and hunger left dead. Macadam's rough surface beneath scorching sun, Each faltering step till the long day was done. Beaten and broken, denied even bread, While comrades fell silent and joined the unled. From Bataan's dust to Tarlac's harsh hold, A story of suffering in courage untold. Though thousands perished, their spirits took flight, A testament etched in the fading sunlight. But valor resides not in victory's gleam alone, It lives in the spirit that hardship has known. In the will to endure when all seems despair, A flame of defiance that still fills the air. So on this ninth of April, we bow down our head, For the heroes of Bataan, the living and dead. Their sacrifice echoes, a lesson so clear, That even in darkness, true courage is here. From the dust of Death March, a nation arose, Remembering the bravery that history shows. Their valor a beacon forever alight, Inspiring our future to stand for what's right. ©bfa040925
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