i lay down to rest
after the long toils of the day
and as i slipped into slumber
a ray of sunlight did touch me
and within it i did perceive
a great host of marching souls
a vast column of men in ordered lines
and the cost i knew would be wrought upon them
the price of the free
the young and the old
the brave and thouse who's stout heart
the battlefield robbed them of life
looked into their eyes
saw there my brother father friend
saw the strong and the good brave men
marching off to defend hearth and home
and as this great host passed by
with a thundering din
of marching feet
i did stand with my head bowed
and tears streaming for the young who will
be entombed in the ranks of graves of the fallen
and for thouse who came back with their lives but
never to be whole in limb or mind again
for all of us
that such a terrible price must be lain
at the alter of freedom
lest we fall to the hand of tyrants
lest we fall to the hands of the
lesser men who create greater evils
we can only hope and pray that our path
has not lead us astray
that this precious blood was not spilled for naught
that freedom has been defended
from a terrible fate