Legions of the fallen

patriotart

Newton Aycliffe, United Kingdom

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Artist's Description

THE LEGIONS OF THE FALLEN

From the break of dawn to the setting of the sun,
they march those son’s those legions of the fallen.
It is said that that in the mist of morning you can sometimes hear the faint sound of the echo of a million mother’s still mourning & old worrier songs’ the flute, pipes and drums and marching feet,
Fighting men and women who’s blood sweat and tear’s
for to many years are soaked into the land we call home,
legions at our front lines collecting their brothers in arms to forever roam.
Clansmen ,tribes regiments collected under their colour, flags, and banners.
now aglow with the spirit of their friend & comrades they are Home.
,Brother stand next to brothers,
father next to grandfather,
our honoured and Nobel fallen
,Bodies free from the pain and suffering.
all with one soul that of a lion.
These men & women of iron.
It is Said that as the years pass’
when old soldiers stand in each year in silence
They hear & see the faint images in the columns of comrades long gone passing
Every year growing more clear
Sometimes stopping beside a sleeping old man his chest brazen with medals,
Its time, he takes his place,
To the sound of the bugle and the cracked
Order “Forward March.”
Great Britain’s legions of the fallen’
will always march as long as the British lion lives.
And as the sun sets we wait our turn.

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