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A REMINDER OF WHAT IT TOOK TO BUILD THIS COUNTRY! I wrote this because of my love of history.

MORNING GLORY

A young man stands alone still and subdued as an obelisk,

while dawn trumpets a cacophony of red streaked sky over his shoulders.

His eyes fix on the landscape within his own mind,

caressing every thought like a lover he must soon part with.

Several feet beneath him men stand in neat rows,

a terrible margin of red fence posts, haughty and disdainful.

The young man is dressed plain and shivers slightly,

behind him the sun is still chasing away stars, and planets, it is cold.

The young man shakes his head as if coming awake,

someone is barking accusations at him, summoning him to the here and now.

Blame and condemnation paint a picture of his character,

miscreant, disloyal, a shadow.

False words meant to maim him, he knows this,

and a small smile flickers at the corners of his mouth.

His hands are clasped behind him,

skin burned where rope has rubbed flesh,

lassoed wrists reigning the muscles of his arms taught.

From somewhere to his right he can hear the staccato beat of a drum, rolling out a dreadful riff.

The young man takes a sip of the sharp morning air,

he feels his heart pulse in his temples,

and from behind his eyes he is still thinking.

Standing upright with his shoulders straight and proud,

in a voice steady without any hint of fear or remorse his words ring out loud and clear as a musket shot.

"I regret that I have but only life to give for my country!"

His words levitate, suspended even as the trap door is released and the young man's body is dropped.

His feet kick, trying to make purchase, his neck at an awful angle.

Then... he ceases to move, as his body ceases to live.

The tethered cord is still in possession of the young man,

it will be cut, and he will leave the earth as he was born,

the man will never be forgotten.

His battlefield was the hangman's scaffold, and yet he died in glory,

his last spoken words had broke with the morning,

a fiery crescendo setting the world ablaze,

a testament to one man's faith in a country as young and fragile as an infant,

but strong enough to fight great tyranny.

A voluminous rouge wind rolls in sweeping aloft the gallows scene of his death,

it has come to take the young man to his eternal home,

as his words abscond to find new life in our country’s history.

sherrie orestis's Album: Wall Photos


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