Ghosts of his fathers Looked down from the wall. In various uniforms, Answered their country’s call. Six boys and one girl, Cast quite a shadow. None stayed behind. Each of them did go. One aunt and six uncles, His own father leading. Took up arms and went Ignoring a mother’s pleading. Before them their father Had gone in his turn. Later on a stretcher made, His hero’s return. And yet before him Others had fought. Duty and honour The lesson they taught. Yet another day, yet another time Yet another land torn asunder. Yet another people Hear the bomb’s thunder. And yet once again Came the glory plea. Your country needs you, Who could ignore? Not he. And yet another mother With tear misted eyes. Looks on her young warrior Says her goodbyes. He’ll march off for duty His shoulders held proud. To fight as his fathers. An honour to be allowed. It can be no other way His family answers the call. They go fight for country They go one, they go all. Never with doubts Never ask why they fight. Their country has called them, They know it must be right. In the morning desert mist, A figure walks slowly. Prayers repeated again and again To all he holds Holy. Ahead a blur moves He stops in his stride. Was it real? Or have his eyes lied? A cold settles in, Displacing all heat Though the weather is warm, The chill is complete His one foot hovers Inches over the ground. His total committment The moment it sets down. Is it too late to go back? Can he make it still? Go forward or back, It’s a struggle of will. Which step should he take? Which path should he follow? One filled with glory and light Another dark and hollow. To go back is to live To bear utter shame. To have the word coward Affixed to his name. And ahead lies death A darkness complete. But he’ll be a hero Who did not retreat What prepares him To choose between the two? What step would you have him make Were it up to you? Or have you already chosen? Have you selected his path? Calling him to step out To face the enemy’s wrath. When that foot goes down His young life will end. He’ll lay dead and broken Like the others you send. Raised with ghosts of his fathers He never thought to refuse. His trusting nature Is what you abuse. He thought you wise An all knowing sage. Respect and deference He awarded your age. You knew he would die That he would not retreat. Yet you sent him anyway To die at your feet. It’s his warm blood That soon will flow. That blood is on you You told him to go. His courage of soul You never knew. His killer we know His killer is you.