To Make a Great Warrior

The things that make a

warrior great, and send them out

to fight.

To face the enemies consuming

mouth and never think of flight.

Are people by themselves,

so many people fled

the animals and the earth

too are they will never leave.

The grass spot where the children play,

their love who cries against the wall.

'Tis these that make a warrior great.

They're fighting for them all.

'Tis not the pomp and pride

of the president that make a warrior brave;

'Tis not allegiance to a flag

that over their homes that may wave;

For warriors never fight as well alone,

as when behind the cause

they see a little reason called

humanity and home.

Never to endanger his humble family whereon

they have to flee.

You make a warrior of

the man never bore a family.

What is it through the fight

the valiant warrior sees?
The little garden far away,

or his favorite budding apple trees,

the thought of his lover back home,

children he knows at play,

Perhaps a tiny mound of the

simple church that we pray.

The golden thread of courage isn't

linked to castle dome.

But to the spot, where're

it be- the humble spots called

humanity and home.

And now they see spring time

is in the air, and all

be lovely here;

And homesickness settles

in when they know their not there,

every rose comes to bloom again,

and the grass is once more green.

And every warrior can see

where al their joys have been.

They see the children smile

at them, they hear the

spirits call,

And only death can stop

them now- they're

fighting for them all.

 

~WindSinger~