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Savoring Private Memories

I drift by the often ignored and mostly forgotten final resting place
Of countless veterans of desperate, despicable, chaotic but justified wars

Walking so close to death, yet distancing myself from it
Not appreciating life; gained by the sacrifice of brethren flesh and blood

Not pausing for one brief moment to offer my respects to unsung heroes
Courageous men who charged headlong into battle for our liberty

I, like most, have failed to acknowledge the debt owed to a contingent of brave, dauntless souls
Men who ensured our hopeful future; some of us not thankful yet still rewarded

In the dawning hours I ease gingerly through the sparsely decorated seemingly endless rows of fading white crosses
The pending sunrise on the graying symbols of death arouse my lethargic and soon to be embattled imagination

Morbid in its reality, vivid, vibrant, so palpable; I feel energy of the living moving all about me
Somber, intent olive-clad figures stooped low, easing unwaveringly into the grisly, crimson-splattered haze

A sweltering, stifling, smoke-filled mist engulfs me in a sinister, darkening, ominous dense cloud
Smothering acrid fumes of smolder; odor of threatening death saturates the air encompassing me

Frightened I pray frantically; acutely a flux of winds shift when angels flutter open their guardian wings
A blunt, keen draft from heaven strikes me and bows me to my ungrateful knees

I kneel on consecrated ground; a place of mortality of kindred souls
Unleashing my wail of sobbing gratitude to eternal comrade; no longer just beloved strangers

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