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Title: Memorial Day Tribute to My Fallen Brothers and Sisters-in-Arms
Tags: Memorial Day Thank You Remember Heroes Tribute Military Sacrifice
Blog Entry: Tried to post this last night but the site was down for maintenance...never too late to reflect and give thanks... To all who shall see these presents, greetings…   Thanks to you, the readers, for taking the time to read through these offerings and reflecting on the selfless sacrifices of my brothers and sisters-in-arms.   A tribute to my fallen brothers and sisters-in-arms, t hank you for loving me enough!   Kevin www.Just-Hunt.com Sgt USMC (’88-96) Forget Me Not   Settle in this evening fair, for not contrite this humble gift donned of sweet liberty by purposed men baptized in blood and cannon-fire.   Forget me not. Honor prevailed at the hands of heroes sacrificed upon your hallowed eve of independence.   Did dawn not find our coats bled red? Nay, to contrary, our coats still bleed blue eternal upon that crimson field of sacrificed sons and lamenting fathers.   Should not liberty have begotten justice upon the redcoat borne of Patriot blood?   Desperate independence quartered no crown in patriot provision then. Yet, now propagate traitors among us? The turncoat in contempt haunts me well beyond my living days.   Shall I find scarlet upon the back of my son? The breast of my daughter? The hearts of my children centuries hence?      Surely, I returned then, glorified in union ...and independence. Is it not written?   This union I gifted freely to you. Sired by blood. Bequeathed by bravery. Defended by honor.   Established by right. Principled in equality. Purposed in liberty. For all men.   Do you know of me my child, born free by my blood spilled these centuries passed?   Do you not remember me? I was shunned by you, cast away at your doorstep by the voice of ignorance.   You have abandoned me; my brothers put to slaughter, readily forsaken by you as you so freely sing in defiance.   You have forgotten me, blinded by blasphemy and foolish pride. Open your door to me now.   Wait by your casement and sing your sweet lullaby of sorrow, of sacrifice, and of patriot sons loved once again.    I have not forgotten you. I carried the banner of ignorance for you upon embattled fields anointed in patriot blood.   Fool am I to have levied your voice of ignorance for you? Child, this was my gift to you.   Forget me not. I am the son of liberty.   Heroes Have Eyes Can you not understand this blasphemy where the ribbon of life is severed clean? Beyond depths, lost in the cauldron, are the hearts of heroes lost forever. These men have eyes that pierce the night, leering at those who spit upon their graves, With furled brow, and lamenting heart, they find their home beyond your comprehension. You have been found in contempt of liberty. The curse of surreal idealism has befallen you. Your sense of home, ruled by the passive hand, has cloaked you in the shawl of slavery. Reap what you sow in the seeds of submission while the weight of resolve squares upon your shoulders. Shall you harvest submission for the heroed heart? No, you shall not offer your coward’s reward to me. I find my way through darkened day, to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Well within my humble soul he resides, ever glorified in his resolve to defend. There shall he watch his family grieve of his sacrifice while embracing the night in which cowards find solace. Raise your coward’s banner you submissive few! Look upon death’s face and say to him, “You are not worthy!” Be sure you are looking in the mirror. While I look upon his tearstained face and say, “My hero lost, I fear that I am not worthy of you.” Thank you for loving me enough. Authors of Freedom For our beloved heroes of World War II I. Worn Thin Reverent friend worn thin in timed procession of life, fragile smile christens weathered lips and worn jaw. Callused hands hold on tightly to the second hand of obstinance, Trying to slow the fervent tick of that unruly clock. The atlas has been found in the palm of your hand. The map of successes and failures is well drawn here. You have seen more than one should of the latter. Yet, still your lips part, however fragile, in youth’s resistant smile. Yet, innocence void still. You have overcome all odds. Your blood spilt, sacrificed for the sovereignty of all. You have buried sons and daughters, husbands and wives, mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, and those you cradled amidst those desperate fields. Your eyes speak louder than words of times distant yet never forgotten to lamenting masses born long after your stars fell from on high. II. Weight of the World Crows-feet run on, attesting to trials of survival from dustbowls and our Great Depression to the stench of death upon Europe’s hallowed ground, and upon the beaches of Iwo Jima. Trace the map of your existential trials through the years, the smiles, the laughter, and the tears. You buried your innocence with humility …and blood so that sons and daughters might know their own. III. Scars Scars, some seen and some unseen, all thrive, never truly healed in this hero loved. Perhaps death would have been kinder, more humane, even palatable in some regards. Regardless of age, regardless of scars, I shall not forget that they were meant for all of us. IV. Authors of the Free World I look upon your weighted back falling with gravity’s cruel hand and laden by the woes of this compromised world past. Shoulders, longing for release, crushed under the fascist boot of long ago. Knees weakened in prayer, kneeling in want of sound resolve and tempered tranquility. How many years have your knees worn into this unforgiving floor? Your relentless pursuit for penance of heart has left you callused, without understanding it is our own hearts in need of penance from you. You have found me steady my ageless friend. Ready, at your bidding, to carry your load home to the staid hearts of free men. Spurring these days forward, that they may, in time, break their bread with you at the Hero’s Table, burying innocence yet again so that others may not. You were young, you were vibrant, you were fearless, and you were courageous authors of the free world. Regardless of age, Regardless of scars, I will remember you …and so will my sons. Remember When? Sunlight warmed a weathered cheek today, dancing upon the heartstrings of this troubled patriot soul.   Amidst the chaos of our time, and the fading of our fabric, shame beckons me, “Remember…”   Remember when… Time stood still, if for only a day while we wept, and our beloved souls rose above half-mast flags? Remember when… Patriot hearts sang in defiance, unified, while streaming standards of red, white, and blue steadied on our porches, and danced upon the winds of our precious highways, and back-road byways?   Remember when… Your flag failed to unfurl, tears dried up, and lost souls began to fade?   Remember when?   Amidst the chaos of our time, and the fading of our fabric, shame beckons me, “Remember…”   All works Copyright © 2005 - 2010 Kevin V. Reese All rights reserved www.Just-Hunt.com