Blood painted stripes on his shoulder,
His duty that weighs a boulder.
Patriotism flowing through his veins,
Yet his dignity studed with stains.

With bullet holes in his chest,
He carried the flag to the mountain's crest.
Inhaling courage and exhaling fear,
Fighting to prove wrong every smear.

Watching tombstones which were once a life,
On a blunt rock he sharpens his knife.
Pledging to make the enemy repay,
He confides his deeds to statues of clay.

Protector of freedom and warrior of the weak,
The vast warlands of his might they speak.
He stands atop the conqured dome,
He's a soldier who never came home.