Freedom's Cost

 

Freedom’s Cost 

What be this place where no sound be heard.  In the distance a single bugle sounds its call.  Yet, tears that fall like rain drops; play their own notes.  Be this the notes of the sadness of the lost.  You ask what sound is this that brings the sadness.  This be the sound of courage lost in defense of others.  The cost of liberty was paid again; with blood the only payment.  This price paid again by the few; so that the many know not of fear.  Yet their freedom is given without cost to those who wear not the uniform.  Freedom only exists, when those both men and women are willing to stand the wall.  These special few that heed their country’s call; and yes their life forfeit if it must.  To those that have given this payment.  I offer this tribute; you shall be remembered as long as one lives to tell the story of 

freedom’s cost.

© 2010 Words the Windows to the Soul