The following prose are my reflection upon those who gave their all for our nation... Those who bled red the fields of their memorial, often miles from their own homes.  These thoughts come from my personal experience and are meant to memorialize their sacrifice.  I hope these words move the reader to be mindful of our responsibility to those who sacrificed their lives for our liberty.

Who Are The True Patriots?

Often, I sit in silence, as my mind drifts to days long lost … too, nights where horrors many did brightly light the skies… where men’s cries, shall never end. There, I ponder the weight of it all… What sorrow did gain and what tears many fed? ‘Tis but the mournful memories of patriots long dead… Whose, hearts doth shout… give me liberty or give me death… that resounds in my soul.

Did freedom so loosely lay itself in death's way… That men presently would trample upon their grave… Upon, the memory of those… whose lives did bleed… That they may live. Where comes this arrogant nature in men… Too, take lightly the pain of others, who suffered in death? Where is their true memorial?

Does it lie… in the mouth of those, who so glibly label their pain of death… tyranny. By what horrible exercise… of imperial power… did they die? And too what land do they now lay claim? For in their pain, they suffered for nothing more… than, man should live free… Free from the tyrant's rage, and the ignorance of lesser men.

Where then comes this cry… from the high places in our land… to slander the brave and heroic… our forefathers, and their progeny… Whose house they built, that we may live in freedom… How do these men speak and live… What manner of people, hold them in high esteem… Those who rob the graves… of the righteous; who steal the sacrifice of liberties… guarantors.

Woe… to this perverse and wicked generation… Whose, unthankful and derelict nature, doth tare at the wounds of those who fed the Tree of liberty… that they may be free.

RA Nelson

Col. USArmy (Ret)

This Band Of Brothers Few

Ye band of brothers few… whose courage ran red, whose dead did bleed the fields of valor red, whose, sacrifice now speaks to us all… with one voice… they call: Arise take our standard true and stand too. Raise high the banners of liberty’s cause… Once more, sound the trumpet loud… and beat the drummer’s cadence, to muster one and all. Let the cadence of our heart… bear witness to the despot's hand… as the righteous rise, in all the land… too, cast off the cursed work of desperate man.

For sooner, did the cowards brace their lesser course…  giving way, before the tide of tyrants many; did these brothers few, this band of Patriots true, charge with steel their homeward course, to give no breath to these lesser men…. they stood in testament to liberties voice.  Stand now ye men of valor true… Lift up thine eyes, and with no more ado, take hold of your heritage… and with the sword of truth stand true. That our Nation may no more suffer the cowards brace; lay hold of our father’s course, and stay true to their race… as a permanent memorial to their courage, embrace the tyrant, and take up your father’s chalice, to drink of liberty while it may be found.

Let us remember this day of memorial… On this day, let us honor, those who answered liberty’s call.  Let us consider their sacrifice… with tears of sorrow for all, who suffered death that we may have tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, in liberty’s embrace. For those brave few, that band of brothers true, so righteously speak in their silence anew… That we may stand in liberties brace, tomorrow and tomorrow for our heritage and children’s liberty a true memorial to their just cause.

Let this day be no more, a fleeting memory… that catches the wind and then ado. No more, a breath of the past, so desperately needed by us few, we veterans of sorrows fields long lost, long, long ago. Let us gather now our strength, in hollowed remembrance of our fallen comrades… Whose sacrifice did furnish our tables and secured our fortunes, with liberty’s garlands and freedoms embrace, let us remember this day of grace… with every waking day… let us lay our wreaths, our garlands anew…upon those fields of remembrance, recalling our lost brothers true… with equal sacrifice, keeping their cause hollowed and renewed.
We shall never forget… those few, that band of brothers solemn and true; whose blood did run red, whose death we now memorialize… Whose stead fast courage, did refresh the Tree of Liberty, for you and I.  God bless them all, now and in eternity. For they are the keepers of liberty’s gate, the watchmen on the wall, for us all.  Remember their call, this day, stand tall one and all… for this band of brothers true… These few gave all… that you and I need not die, nor perish for the lack of liberty, one for all.

Let us remember those who bore this burden…  many care not to embrace… knowing, that thru their sacrifice, grace brought liberty and prosperity to our gate. That peace may be our Children’s inheritance and our Grand Children’s heritage. Freedom is not free, and liberty has a price. A price, that must be paid, in a world, where tyrants would deny the whole… their right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  Amen.

Ronald A. Nelson
COL. US Army (ret.)

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  • Long Grows The Shadow Of Tyranny…

    Long grows the shadow of tyranny upon the land… cold, the hand of the despot upon our liberty, falls. Who will stand, who will go, who will answer the call… Whose blood, did pave the streets of liberty? We few, we few men, whose lives did bleed, cry out; come, stay the course true, and live in peace forever renewed… Die not the coward’s curse, make sure freedom’s thirst…

    Can the bards of time so eloquently lift, their voices to cry… give us liberty, or give us death… and not be heard? Can there be so few, yet in this land, too rally round the tree of liberty? Whose voice shall our children dance to or labor now; whose cheers of joy shall our wives great … Will it be freemen or the slaves of a new plantation?

    Where comes this cry for justice in our land of law… Who is it, that has turned the servant of the people, to be their master’s… Call. Will justice be blind, in a land bartered by men, whose black robes so aptly hide their souls? Let the world know, that the law is the servant of the people, and the unjust judge will be overturned upon appeal, to a people… True.

    Woe to the tyrant whose eyes seize upon another’s life and property… thinking to entice the wicked, to engage with him, as his appetite grows bold for more… Until there is no more! Then, shall we hear the voice of the oppressed rise to heaven, and the Supreme Judge of the Land shall speak judgment upon the wicked.

    Look up, for the day grows short… and the sun soon sets; then, darkness will cover the wicked for a time and a season. But in the morning judgment comes, upon the wings of an angel, it comes. For, the tyrant shall not escape his end, it is certain; death's curtain shall embrace him, tomorrow and tomorrow, with an eternity of sorrow. Greet now thy makers voice, with joy… Rejoice for He alone, will bring a conclusion to this all… With liberty, we shall break the bounds of the despot’s call… with the voice of freedom, we shall rally all.  Amen.

    BY: RA Nelson
    Col. US Army (Ret)

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