Time is slowly turning on a braided chain
Each piece laced with love sewn in
For a hero whose life was not in vain
I'll write the pages; a book without end
Today I stood where the silent lay
With emotions that fell as streams of ribbon
Beneath the sky in its coat of gray
I heard the Lord say, "Well done, my son."
I walked in mourning amid the rows of some
That slept beneath the gauze of death
Where did the puppets of pain come from?
That took my struggling breath
I place a red rose with velvet smooth tips
Can you see the trembling of my fingers
As I kneel in emptiness, reality grips
There's a place where the blue still lingers
