The question
I take strong drink, to ease the pain.
But when the sunrise, memories remain.
When the embers burn low, their voices cry out.
“Do not forget me!”
I hear them shout.
So, I sing their song, and I tell their tale.
And my only fear,
Is that I may fail.
And though I have bled, they’ve paid so much more.
Have I done enough,
For them and the Corps?
This question it comes, the answer who knows?
And my spirit is stirred,
Each time the wind blows
Categories: