The Last Post

Compliance to orders is the protectors’ work,

Protocol of perfection, in a badge, spark,

Uniform in olive and a hat stands, stark,

‘Cometh with Mothers’ blessings!’ calls of a war-cry mark!

O world, knew not of a brave little daughter, back home,

And a wife in togetherness of soul, proudly alone,

A mother’s prayers for the perpetual safety of her son,

To the trinity of the universe, yet destiny in evanescent, burn,

Alert in duty, in moments of esteemed honour,

Engaged in full valour, pursued enemy to corner,

Leading from the front with determination and will,

Martyred by a hail of bullets in his final kill,

As the last post bugles sounds twenty-one gun fire,

A nation salutes a brave heart consigned to the eternal pyre;