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pilotnavigator
05-25-09, 09:25 PM
As I gaze upon your picture, bent with tattered side, loneliness fills my empty heart my tears I try to hide.

For in this foreign land am I, distant and far from home, surrounded my hundreds of men like me and yet, so alone.

The trees the grass the winding paths once so full and green, now red and torn and stained with blood from all these men Iíve seen.

A winding path a distant road that leads to the unknown, I take this road I know not where I hope it takes me home.

A flash of light I feel the pain Iím lying on the ground, raging war goes on and on but I hear not a sound.

No more loneliness fills my heart, no tears I need to hide. Your picture I hold in my dying hand still bent with tattered side.

To all who have fallen