To the Unknown Soldier

To the unknown soldier,

Resting beneath the moss-laden tomb,

As a testimony to living men,

Who have forgotten,

The cost of undivided freedom.

This letter is for you.

 

I heard your story,

From a devastated wife,

Who waves her pride,

Reminiscing your last gasp,

Of valor and courage.

 

I saw your battle,

In the eerie darkness ,

Confined behind a mother’s eyes,

Who got swerved in a void,

Holding your cold hand.

 

I apprehended your devotion,

In the hovering cries,

Of a young crackled heart,

Bleeding solitary tears,

Down his rouged cheeks.

 

I perceived your greatness,

Of tenacity and will,

Gleaming intently,

In the hues of the tricolor,

You were swaddled within.

 

To the unknown soldier,

Who ached in silence,

On the red-stained snow,

Expiring his remnant breaths,

With the mourning breezes,

Departing to celestial planes.

 

I know your soul is amid us

In the gleaming flag,

Hovering with dignity and pride,

And in the gliding river,

Swaying with your ashes,

I know you still exist.

To the unknown soldier,

This is not a love letter,

But a letter of love,

To admire your courage,

Honor your glory,

Celebrate your triumph.

This a prayer of appreciation and regard,

I say to you,

And to the mother,

Who lost a son,

And for the freedom I possess,

That your sacrifice has won.