The Lone Survivor
The sound of bugles dins louder at last,
The cavalry must be approaching near,
While here, nary one tiny cannon blast,
Is seen from yonder banks as smoke would clear;
And not a stir from all the dead around,
Friends and foes, as I return, splayed and still,
Had I not fled this fateful battleground,
My guts would also scatter on the fill;
But living in glory when others died,
This flag would be defiled held by my hand,
False History might have me glorified,
As lone surviving hero of my band;
......So, before greatness would to me extend,
......I must leave, a deserter till the end.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
Added by Poetry Lover
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