Etching of the Past

For honor

His fingertips trace the names in stone
where the old man stands alone.
Brilliant the sunset shadows cast,
on the wall, an etching of the past.
Looking for people he shall miss,
pure is this shiny dark abyss.
Looking down the wall, watching boys at play,
remembering the horror of that day.
Far from home his innocence lost,
thinking of the lives war has cost.
Swelling in his eyes a painful tear,
bowing his head, his prayers they will hear.
To his brow a salute he has rendered,
to show respect for the freedom never surrendered.

Reviews

[Rambling Prose]

"To show respect for the freedom never surrendered."

This is a lovely heartfelt tribute to the lives lost to the sting of war. A beautiful write from the sentiment to the diction used to convey the thought...