Whispers to the winds,
voices take us to barren unpleasant lands,
where battles rage in anger,
force-fields lay trapped,
mines uncovering fatal blow.
Maimed soldiers,
loss limbs lesser a life,
befallen,
to the grave side marked a rose.
Believers hail their trophy flag,
draped by the fist of its carriers,
crossed swords hail brutality,
and lone a woman did cry.
Stench of death,
it carries over the smoke that choked,
as so does the buildings burn,
extinguished a life or more.
Held high the Pride of Men,
Young, no more then a boy,
leads Countries united,
and the evil that prevailed.
In a world of greed,
of believes that swallowed hard,
ethics laid its mark,
and society paid its price.
Torched hearts reaching out,
fair Soldiers be our protector,
from this dictatorship control.
A Mother weeps in cradled arms,
and he stands beside her,
resting the infant as the grave calls
another innocent life.
In lands we hardly heard of,
in deserts uninhabitable,
they dig their trenches,
armed they raise their rifles,
and guard upon thy honor,
to defend until the end is near,
and withdrawal lays its peace.
Son of mine I love you,
my wish an Angel pin,
Guarding you from harm,
Until that day unites us,
and the love can carry on.
Honorable mention
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