None sob for the hero
When at last, his end he meets
No remembrances for deeds long done
Only lauding of defeat
No parades or tickertape
Or maybe moonlight vigils
Just a simple wooden box
And a few religious symbols
And everyone's a saint
And everyone's a martyr-
Brother, sister, mother
Son or daughter, father
For when Death finally comes
And surely takes us all,
No one weeps for any
When the last one finally falls
No one mourns the common man
No fanfare at his death
Just complacence and contempt
And softly veiled regret.
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 4:57 AM UTC
None sob for the hero
When at last, his end he meets
No remembrances for deeds long done
Only lauding of defeat
No parades or tickertape
Or maybe moonlight vigils
Just a simple wooden box
And a few religious symbols
And everyone's a saint
And everyone's a martyr-
Brother, sister, mother
Son or daughter, father
For when Death finally comes
And surely takes us all,
No one weeps for any
When the last one finally falls
No one mourns the common man
No fanfare at his death
Just complacence and contempt
And softly veiled regret.
