The Uniform
The lonely soldier
On the field again,
For the darkened sky
Shows its power within.
The blood stained uniform
Is a grim one indeed,
For it tells a tale of
a mission in need.
Not of money
Or power of one,
But of the hearts
Of the weary,
As the soldier marches on.
For the mission ahead
he knows will be tough
For the road beneath him
is long and rough.
The song of the soldier
Can be heard by many
For they know not of his
Words but the uniform
he carries.
It has not a name
But a soul felt within,
It tells of a country
of land of the free,
of the pride and glory
and dignity.
On the field again,
For the darkened sky
Shows its power within.
The blood stained uniform
Is a grim one indeed,
For it tells a tale of
a mission in need.
Not of money
Or power of one,
But of the hearts
Of the weary,
As the soldier marches on.
For the mission ahead
he knows will be tough
For the road beneath him
is long and rough.
The song of the soldier
Can be heard by many
For they know not of his
Words but the uniform
he carries.
It has not a name
But a soul felt within,
It tells of a country
of land of the free,
of the pride and glory
and dignity.
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