The Long March

Let the drummers pound their drums,
in cadence with life’s long march,
until the bugler blows taps, for the fallen

All soldiers we are,
fighting the endless battles,
of self against conscience

Right and wrong

March on,
march on, oh fearless ones

Against the barrage of the dark army
They call themselves, “me”

Bearing Paper shields and phony spears,
their names are known,
Wrath, Greed, Sloth, PRIDE, Lust, Envy, and Gluttony
Beware their sword that can pierce the soul

Fear pride the most,
their Leader,
who propagandizes his army

He tells you,
the enemy is good,
but denies they exist

Though your struggle may be fierce
and though you falter,
do not surrender,
do not retreat

Resist the lure of the enemy,
who calls you his friend
He lays a snare for you,
baited with false promise,
the odor of selfishness

March on oh, fearless warrior,
march on

To the golden gates of victory,
where the drum beats with glory,
the pipers will pipe, “Amazing Grace”

Buglers, sound the call to assembly,
the fallen shall rise

The Prince of Peace,
shall heal your wounds,
with the balm of his own blood
He will wrap them with his flesh

Rest now honorable soldier,
rest in his arms,
for we are safe now….

Patsy, 2017