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 deaths 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?
Is it found 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 the superior idea that 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… Too, slander the brave and heroic… Our forefathers, and their progeny… Whose house they built, that we may live in freedom… How doth 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…unto this perverse and wicked generation… Whose, unthankful and derelict nature, doth tare at the wounds of those who feed the Tree of liberty… that they may be free.
Col. USArmy (Ret)