Glory's Tragedy

they lie in graves cold and silent buried deep by intention weighted down with medals of gold do they regret or still yearn to Revere ride through black of night with silvern voices rallying to the cries they are remembered in the shining moments with brilliance until the blackened earth shoveled onto solid grave dims the glow as days drift into night and nights into years of fading memories sealed with tears of pride and loss those left behind remember for a time shouts of bravery heard amid blazing guns trumpets heralding glorious arrival they ran into hell and hell welcomed them home wrapped in glory's flag gold lies tarnishing in that sealed box where we need to lift the lid to remember the sacrifice death creeps upon a hero without warning or thought silently his fingers find that golden halo and he is drawn by the light basking in the glow stealing its warmth until all that remains is blood flowing upon the ground and the tragedy is written with words of finality that we never understand poets will place tears upon pages playwrights will write tragedy's filled with emotion to play to packed houses dwindling over time then forgotten until then heroes will act the scenes audiences will applaud with standing ovations filled with meaningless platitudes for they can stand while heroes lie still