Within the hour of love a red poppy night
a warrior prepped for dawning flight
no bullets no musket to his flank
just memories of wartime- rank
settled in his aureole, the light;
no bullets no musket to his flank
just memories of wartime- rank
That final day the guards did still salute
dressed in uniform with lips of solid mute
they came to honor him the gent
who's trust they underwent
consentingly agreed a man of no refute;
within the hour of twilight God found his heart,
within the hour of love he got a fresh new start
No bullets, no musket to his flank....
Categories:
consentingly, death,
Form: Rhyme