Taps

The white in their eyes and looks of surprise, As the mortars rain down to destroy them. To watch as they’re slain and grovel in pain, For the Mission is all that controls them. The beach is on fire; each step tangled wire, Constitution is what every man seeks. To climb up that hill and dodge deadly pills, To face Death rather than be seen as weak. Such vicious fighting; every step like dying, So Colors of victory will be seen. Between hell and home we remember rome, And faces of fallen soldiers deceased. There are no reasons but fear of treason, Yet this Duty is ours to be carried. Won’t let the flag fall until satan calls, This burden greater than being buried. This Hope of a nation breeds damnation, Of generations yet to be conceived. When the cause is wrong the feelings are strong, And the consequence is seen as belief. Taps.