Silence

Price of freedom

Neat, ordered, row upon row,

Lined up like soldiers ready for parade,

Stand the lonely reminders...

Reminders of a distant past.

Hints of a price paid in riches,

Unmeasurable by gold.

Arms out wide,

Heads reaching for the heavens.

Sun glistening off the white,

Pure, unblemished surface.

Thousands as far as the eye can see...

Silently standing at attention...

Waiting...forever.

Green grass covers the stories beneath,

Like a blanket protecting a child.

Tread carefully so as not to disturb...

The serene quite, tranquility of peace.

Slight imprint in the manicured uniform green,

Disappears like wrinkles pressed by a hot iron.

Orderliness, uniformity, perfection,

Even now as time has passed.

Pass it always will, though we forget,

What lies beneath our feet,

A single reminder of a freedom won,

Now taken for granted.

A foretelling of the cost and price to be paid,

Each time we march this same road.

Here lie mere men, in eternal slumber,

Given freely of their lives, 

Who never saw the victory they made.

Here they will forever dream,

Beneath white crosses,

Turned crimson red,

When the sun does set,

To be resurected in white again,

To stand side by side on verdant green,

Dreaming of lives they could have lived,

Of children they could have had.

Yet proudly they stand at attention, 

For lives...

Now free to live without oppression.

Yet dead is dead...