Trumpets of honor, 21 Guns on her behalf
She walks down the tarmac, an unbroken calf;
Stars on her bosom, Wings on her shoulder
Bearing a crest of memories, along with insignia of her mother
She struts with inhuman pride, atop a canopy of battle-hardened brothers.
Hopes and dreams wait for her expectantly, almost seems she’s lost forever
But they will know never
The sacrifice she made for her mother
And the pride she brought back for her father
The sleepless nights she spent for her brothers
And the devils she met to protect her sisters.
Hear her footsteps, the click of her pointed feet
As they settle on a pedestal, where earth and sky meet
She looks up to the heavens, with pride in her dorsal vein
For having brought home a hero, a Centurion to brave men.
But now she’s gone, to join the ranks of Mnemosyne
And still she smiles in our blank faces with a knowing grin
Carved onto her ivory skin, stands an epitaph
That summed up her host’ deeds in one paragraph
“For those who believe and those who don’t
For those who will and those who won’t
Bow your heads and bend your knees
Debouch from your personal miseries
Burn in your hearts a raging smoulder
‘Cause for you he moved every boulder.
And now he’s in a better place, for he bore, on earth, our yoke
His face is now permanent, like carvings on oak. “