Sonnet 242

I fought the battle proud, braved every blow,
Took arrows deep inside my seething breast;
I felt the sabre cleave flesh to hard bone
And studded mace oft grazed my close cropped crest;
A dragoon’s lance once pierced my naked flank
And musket ball did drop the horse I rode
There, falling into mud and blood I sank
Rose up, grasped blade, and into combat strode.
Each conflict lost or won I faced with pride,
Each breath expressed in anger not in pain,
The tears I shed saved for the brave who died
That we live free, beyond a tyrant’s reign.
Know that this life, this blood, this breath we give
Is held in trust that freedom ever lives.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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