The
Soldier stood before the Captain of the Guard
The
wounded lay between the living and the dead
The
battlefield was marked by stains of blood from war
Now
only memories follow those still left on shore.
Their
graves are marked with epitaphs on marbled stone,
And
every year the tears still fall in silent groans
The
Purple Heart was his, not ours to hold with pride
He
is the hero in the grave who fought and died!
The
Captain of the Guard then spoke in accent clear
“Where
did you go when bugle called to face the foe?”
The
Soldier, trembling answered, that he ran away
He
was afraid of fatal wounds or scars that day.
Just
then there flashed across the Eastern sky, a Cross,
The
scars of Battle could be seen on hands and side
The
Captain bore those wounds in love for you and me
So
through His death enslaved mankind could be set free.
We
are the Soldiers that are called to fight the Foe
It
is for each to use the Sword while here below
The
question that disturbs and moves my heart by far
Is
what we'll tell Him if we have no wound or scar!
--B.
Pent
