An Elegy

Heroes

The rows stretch on forever the stones stand in perfect lines
The stones show no flaws

So proud yet so sad, the graves of the dead

I would prefer not to join them
Though I would be proud to do so

Through the haze the fallen Heroes appear

I see them standing so very still and silent
Upon their own plots, their own graves

Amongst the great multitude is a void

The Heroes part allowing me to pass
I embark on a solemn walk

And I see their faces

Their tired, hurt faces reflect their remorse
Yet so proud and at a strange peace

They are at peace

One has a great gash across his coat
Another is badly burned, barely recognizable

I stand now before the empty plot

The stone is immaculate it bears no verse
Naught but a cross is upon it

Then I see it, the meaning of it all

I turn and stand and I take my place
With that the void is filled and

I am so very proud