Flashes of white light, illuminated the benighted sky,
Followed by the familiar discordant tune of artillery and guns,
Amidst the destruction remains a soldier, although injured, with grit,
Knowing his life would go on to save his son.
Faint wisps resurfaced, of the fay he once left home,
His son had begged him, but his face revealed no condole,
"I have to do what I can, I have to help the men',
Oh, what he would do, to see his son's face again.
The incessant firing, now grimly music to his ears,
Ceased, allowing him and the soldiers, a moment of shock,
For on the ground bounced a seemingly harmless grenade,
And in an instant, the soldiers' faces were close to that of chalk.
Steeling his face once more, the soldier knew what had to be done,
Landing protectively on the grenade, and dropped his gun,
He gave a knowing smile to his comrades, a silent farewell,
And his hands drifted to his heart, wherein he hid a picture of his son.
How many more fathers, and mothers, and children,
Were lost, in fighting 'the greater fight',
Giving up their lives, for a stranger; unknown-,
A simple 'Thank You', shouldn't suffice.
We owe you our gratitude, our lives, our respect,
And thank, each and every gallant knight,
For because of your valiant service and sacrifice,
We are here today, healthy, safe, and alive.