What grace shall mark a warrior’s passing time?

Worn dreams, old tales and fading memories

Of glory days where youth once reigned sublime,

Oblivious to the chains of destiny.

The body frail still bears the aged mind

Back to the shores of seas too broad to sail,

Where once tall ships did rail against the wind

And seething prows fought on, too proud to fail.

There on strange beaches, sword and spear and stone

Mocked battle cries ‘midst arrows thick as rain

As to those ramparts charged brave hearts among

That brotherhood that fears not death or pain.

The veteran stands though bent and chopped by years,

Gaze still defiant, eyes bereft of tears.