A battle wages on the plain. Who will win, who will gain.
The sabers clash, the guns do bark, from 'morn 'til night,
and thru the dark. And for so many, ne'er see more light.
No sunshine bright before their eyes, no peace of darkness,
he who dies. For once he loved, and once he lived.
To do his best, to all he'd give. Gave what he could,
and gave by chance; no reservation, no backward glance.
His vow, on earth, to do his best, continued strong,
until laid to rest. |
