Known But To God
Out of all the brave and beaten men
whose echoed cries rebound
from their victorious fields,
a soldier died, and bravest yet,
he who would travel back to the unborn--
back to the womb of weakness,
back to the fountainhead of light.
And I can hear resounding,
his last song of where the the glory lies.
And it is love. Still it is love.
Oh it is love.
~
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