Related quotes: With midnight gone, the soldier...

Silence Is Golden

With midnight gone, the soldier prayed...
No sign of self-control.
For war was here and faith had strayed
And he was in a hole.
Alone in battle like a lamb,
That's lost as lost can be,
The soldier sought the great I AM
And Christ and Calvary...
He had this fear, this mortal dread,
This heightened sense of death.
This time, he needed Christ who bled...
Jesus of Nazareth...
The soldier held his rifle tight
And listened to each sound
And yet he prayed, with all his might,
For angels all around.
By faith, he claimed them for his own,
Assured that they were near.
For suddely, his faith had grown,
No longer did he fear.
The rifle rested gently now,
No longer gripped so hard.
The soldier wiped his fevered brow,
Now angels were on guard...
The enemy were everywhere...
They searched and yet he stayed.
He sensed that God had time to spare...
Why should he be dismayed?
The enemy advanced no more,
For God had other plans.
It didn't matter, peace or war...
This world He daily scans.
'This far, no further shall they go.
This far, then to retreat.'
For God is always in the know,
Thanks to His Mercy Seat.
God's Throne is where our prayers ascend.
Where He alone is Judge.
Where God alone, the Christian's friend,
Stays firm and shall not budge.
He may seem silent as the grave,
When Death stalks all about,
But God is always strong to save
And enemies to rout...

poem by Denis Martindale
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Brave Little Soldier

Im a brave little soldier
I must be bold and strong
A brave little soldier
And I must carry on
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Im a brave little soldier
I must fight, I must win
Im a brave little soldier
Through hell and back again
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Per rum, pum, pum
Per rum, pum, pum
Per rum, pum, pum, pum, pum
Ye though I am marching through the valley filled with fear
My steps are sure and sturdy and my aim is straight and clear
The enemy is stalking me just waiting for the kill
Like david slewed galiath
I will claim this battle field
Im a brave little soldier
I must do what I can
Im a brave little soldier
And I must take a stand
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Marching, marching onward
Searching out the light of truth
I did not start the war
But its a battle I cant lose
Faith will be my armor
And love my sword and shield
I must defeat the enemy
I will, I will, I will
A brave little soldier
I must be bold and strong
A brave little soldier
And I must carry on
A brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Brave, little soldier

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christian soldier

The Christian Soldier,

The Christian soldier goes to fight, a war on evil, every day and night,

Fighting for what the Lord God says. Is only right, with all their might;

They fight the enemy, for peace and truth, yet they are so brave,

And Jesus showed why we go, when He died our souls to save.

The Christian soldier has his armor, his breast plate, and His helmet too,

Then comes feet shod with the preparation of peace, this is True

Truth and Mercy are on the soldiers side, for the enemies destruction,

And with it comes the sword of God, and we're safe under Gods redemption.

The Christian Soldier, those, who have been washed and bought with a price,

The price of the lamb, And we'll win the war, against the enemy who isn't nice;

We have the Words of Christ, bestowed on us, promises from above,

They're full of Wisdom, truth, and justice, they were given to us in love.

poem by Margaret Haig
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Soldier's Ghost

I bled for you - would you for me?

I blessed a skin in blazing fuel
Then took a bullet in a duel of
‘He or I to Die.'

I often question ‘Why? '
Do you?

My country was my life to give -
Would you for country cease to live?
Sinking in a mire of death,
You have no choice -
So while you're still alive,
Rejoice!

I cried in failure - did you care?
And as I waned, were you aware of
What I did -?
Fighting for my country while you hid
Behind your comfort back at home?

Still relaxed?
My wife and child are fading at the tomb.

Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier soldier soldier war
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
war war war war war war war war war war war war
war war war war war war war war war war war war
war war war war war war war war war war war war

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Mother’s Cry of Late

Where for art thou, soldier?
Out East? West? –
And when? –
What part your rabid history?
And why? –
What wrought your destiny? –
For whom
You’d wreak your enmity –
I crave your fate to pen!

What comprehension of the
Order? –
‘Listen up! you men!
Raze to ground the taken land!
See they die and e’er you’ll stand, for
Death is but a grain of sand –
The mighty triumph, medal grand!

Now go you well!
Amen! ’

What sight upon the bloody lie
Of war? – your doubtful fate.

‘Where for art thou, soldier? ’ –
Your mother’s cry of late.

soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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A foot soldier

When I was hurt & lost someone dear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier

When the going got tough with nothing to gear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier

when the faith felt small & doubts really bigger
I did go on because I am a foot soldier

When the sky was dark & nothing seemed near
I did go on because I am a foot soldier

when the wounds were hurting with no immediate cure
I did go on because I am a foot soldier

when the hopes were grim & nothing was clear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier

When storms came hard striking some fear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier

I fought & fought & I fought till the victory was sure
Yes, I could do it because I am a foot soldier

poem by Ameya Deshpande
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The Boy Patriot

I want to be a Soldier!--
A Soldier!--
A Soldier!--
I want to be a Soldier, with a sabre in my hand
Or a little carbine rifle, or a musket on my shoulder,
Or just a snare-drum, snarling in the middle of the band;
I want to hear, high overhead, The Old Flag flap her wings
While all the Army, following, in chorus cheers and sings;
I want to hear the tramp and jar
Of patriots a million,
As gayly dancing off to war
As dancing a cotillion.

_I want to be a Soldier!_--
_A Soldier!_--
_A Soldier!_--
_I want to be a Soldier, with a sabre in my hand_
_Or a little carbine rifle, or a musket on my shoulder_,
_Or just a snare-drum, snarling in the middle of the band_.

I want to see the battle!--
The battle!--
The battle!--
I want to see the battle, and be in it to the end;--
I want to hear the cannon clear their throats and catch the prattle
Of all the pretty compliments the enemy can send!--
And then I know my wits will go,--and where I _should'nt_ be--
Well, there's the spot, in any fight, that you may search for me.
So, when our foes have had their fill,
Though I'm among the dying,
To see The Old Flag flying still,
I'll laugh to leave her flying!

poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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My Soldier

I see it on the news.
Stories of soldiers being killed.
I always prayed that it's not you,
I wish I knew that you were safe,
I don't think that I can handle your death,
You are my soldier, and you
Mean everything to me….

The bombs exploding, I pray that you aren't hit.
That would cause my world to end.
I needed you in my life.
I pray that you would come home soon.
I know it was your dream
To be a soldier, protect the innocent
Tell me this, is it worth dying for?
Who is the enemy you are fighting?
Dead scared child with a gun?
Made me see that this war is useless
There is no hero, only a grief in a war

I wish war would end soon….
For you to come home, I missed you
I barely do anything these days
My heart stops, when I hear the door bell
Afraid to see a soldier on my door step
Telling me my worst fear, not seeing you live
Just heard the news of soldiers being killed.
I prayed that it was not you, my soldier.....

poem by Dush Swaranga
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Kargil Warfare

Words shall never describe
what a soldier is
with a family brave
loosing in wars
all they have
yet smiling to the nation's pride

such is what a soldier is
for when they came with guns and arms
the soldier faced it all
heads held high
for the nation
he was ready to die

such is the sacrifice a soldier makes
and yes!
words shall never describe
what a soldier is

Kargil was the place
this time the fight was for mother land
the soldier could not be held
he marched
without fear
smoke rose high
there on the dusty land
fought the soldier
with no fear of death

he knew beneath
he had to win
and yes he did
his land he saved
but lost many his friends

and we salute
bow our head
for our words shall never describe
what a soldier is.

poem by Areena Arora
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The Precious Purpose Of Prayer

Think not that prayers aren't heard above,
God has a heart of gold...
And He has heard the King of Love,
The day Christ's Blood ran cold...
Through Christ alone, God's mercy flows
In Christian hearts like mine...
Who sense the debt each sinner owes
To Him who is divine...

At night, before His hour came,
The Son of God bled fast,
When fears beset His mortal frame
And He stood there aghast...
He prayed beyond His fragile thoughts,
Now humbled, on His knees...
This King of Kings, this Lord of Lords,
This Christ, the Prince of Peace...

As servant of the Lord Most High,
He sought His destiny!
Was He to live, was He to die?
If death, then Calvary!
No easy death, no great escape,
No mercy from His foes...
His body whipped, bent out of shape,
Such truths God only knows...

The choice was plain, no turning back.
By faith, He went ahead...
To face a future, oh, so black,
That He was good as dead...
With firm resolve, He now stood tall,
Because He understood...
Obedient to His Father's call,
So brave, so bold, so good...

Thus Judas kissed the Son of Man
With Christ betrayed that day,
Who prophesied God had a plan
To take Man's sins away!
Thus Jesus went from place to place
For men to choose His fate...
For rogues to beat His precious face
And scoff and celebrate...

But Christ faced more than fists and whips,
As Calvary drew near...
To leave behind His Blood that drips
And mingles with each tear...
For there, the precious Saviour prayed,
Forgiveness to implore,
Of God, who watched such things dismayed
And wept for Him for sure...

Denis Martindale, copyright, December 2010.

poem by Denis Martindale
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The Combat Soldier

Many accept the name of soldier,
Yet sit in the office, at the rear.

Whilst the real soldier, the combat soldier,
Fight the enemy, eye to eye.

Their uniforms dirty, faces weathered,
Hands rough, minds tethered.

They’ve seen death’s hand, reaching for them,
Their friend’s, death did condemn.

Their weapons are scratched, and used,
Long in the battle, they are abused.

These soldiers seek refuge, in the wire,
Where many spend the operation in its entire.

The combat soldier gets a short rest,
Only to go back out, confined by their vest.

For days they spend in a crosshair,
Terrorist seeking them, death they declare.

Combat soldier, many missions did you fulfill,
Many friends lost, forever still.

No esteem or awards will you receive,
Those with the rank, medals you will receive.

Though the combat soldier defends the post,
Their treated like the lowest, or a ghost.

The soldier and combat soldier, aren’t the same,
The only similarities are in the name.

poem by Joe Moore
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A Soldier- Dedicated to Nicholas Shelton

There is discipline in A Soldier you can see it when he walks,
There is honor in A Soldier you hear it when he talks.
There is courage in A Soldier you can see it in his eyes,
There is loyalty in A Soldier that he will not compromise.
There is something in A Soldier that makes him stand apart,
There is strength in A Soldier that beats from his heart.
A Soldier isn't a title any man can be hired to do,
A Soldier is the soul of that man buried deep inside of you.
A Soldier's job isn't finished after an 8 hour day or a 40 hour week,
A Soldier is always A Soldier even while he sleeps.
A Soldier serves his country first and his life is left behind,
A Soldier has to sacrifice what comes first in a civilian's mind.
If you are civilian - I am saying this to you..... next time you see A Soldier remember what they do.
A Soldier is the reason our land is 'Home of the free',
A Soldier is the one that is brave protecting you and me.
If you are A Soldier - I am saying this to you.....
Thank God for EVERY SOLDIER Thank God for what YOU do!

I thought about you Mr. Shelton, I figured this is the least I could do to thank you my friend.

poem by Caleb Jones
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The Irish Soldier

The Irish soldier, cast for fight,
Stood to his arms at dead of night,
Watching the east, until its ray
To the battle--field should show his way;--
Soldier, soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight though they call you slave,
And though you but help a bandit hand
Uncheck'd to kill in your native land.

The soldier thought on his chance of doom--
How the trampled sod might be his tomb--
How, in evening's dusk, his sightless stare
To the small pale stars might upward glare;--
Soldier, soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight though you think of the grave--
Though it yawn so near you, black and chill,
Honor and courage man you still.

And o'er his solemn brow he made
The Christian sign, and humbly said--
``Your prayers, good saints, if I should fall;
And for mercy, O Lord, on you I call!''--
Irish soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight, although you crave
The prayers of the saints your own to aid,
And the sign of the cross on your brow have made.

The morning broke--the bugle blew--
The voice of command the soldier knew,
And stern and straight in the van he stood,
And shouting, he rush'd to the work of blood;--
Irish soldier, soldier bold,
Thousands lay round you, crimson'd and cold--
But over their bodies you still fought on,
Till down you sank as the day was won.

And the Irish soldier now hath come,
Worn, and wounded, and crippled, home,
The hated, and slander'd, and scorn'd of those
Who safely slept while he faced their foes;--
Irish soldier, soldier bold,
In your native land you now are told
'Twas traitor--blood on that field you lost,
For you call'd on the saints, and your brow you cross'd!

poem by John Banim
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Soldier

The soldier, he has many battle scars.
But there's only a few, others can see.
The wounds, they did not kill him,
They made him who he was called to be.
Although some of his battles were easy,
Through each of his battles he died.
The pieces, which were his true enemy.
Were the pieces that did not survive.
When the soldier, he goes into battle,
He must know who his enemies are.
They are the ones that would harm another,
And make the soldier, seem like he, was the star.
It is only once you discover the enemy,
The march to victory, then can begin.
For the war that the soldier is fighting.
Is the battle he fights from within.
In each of us there is a soldier.
And each day, we fight the good fight.
For the ones who walk into victory,
Are the ones who find their true light.

poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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He Entered Into Battle With A Blunt Edged Sword

He entered into battle with a blunt edged sword,
But he did not know quite why.
His sword selection was done without motive,
To battle and kill his fellow man.

So subconsciously he picked out this sword.
This sword not of this world, not out to cut to bleed.
But this innocent man didn't wish to realize,
What prize he would pay.

In midst of this battle, recieving the swiftest,
Blows from his enemy,
This soldier just kept getting hurt.
Five, six and seven more blows made him hit back,

This soldier proudly used his blunt sword,
Till his nemesis bearing a razor sharp one,
Came along and challenged the already fallen one,
Who gave a swift plunge into his enemy's heart.

But the enemy did not stagger or fall.
Neither did the soldier with the blunt sword.
This soldier's enemy left the battleground,
When he saw that the one with the blunt sword,

Knew all along the possibility of his death.
Still he fought, so he himself could die,
Which the other soldier was saddened by that man's stance.

He told that man, 'if we all fought battles with a blunt
sword,
Then we would all truly win,
For the battleground would know no mortality.

He further told him, 'because of you, your side
Truly wins. But so does our.
We love you,
Blunt edged sword soldier man.'

poem by Vera Sidhwa
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What You Find

There is discipline in A Soldier
you can see it when he walks,
There is honor in A Soldier
you hear it when he talks.
There is courage in A Soldier
you can see it in his eyes,
There is loyalty in A Soldier
that he will not compromise.
There is something in A Soldier
that makes him stand apart,
There is strength in A Soldier
that beats from his heart.
A Soldier isn't a title any man
can be hired to do,
A Soldier is the soul of that man
buried deep inside of you.
A Soldier's job isn't finished after
an 8 hour day or a 40 hour week,
A Soldier is always A Soldier
even while he sleeps.
A Soldier serves his country first
and his life is left behind,
A Soldier has to sacrifice what
comes first in a civilian's mind.
If you are civilian -
I am saying this to you.....
next time you see A Soldier
remember what they do.
A Soldier is the reason our land
is 'Home of the free',
A Soldier is the one that is brave
protecting you and me.
If you are A Soldier -
I am saying this to you.....
Thank God for EVERY SOLDIER
Thank God for what YOU do!

TY bohls

poem by Ty. Bohls
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D’soldier(part Ii)

Now, carry your guns soldier,
Rush into war
With your guns and knives
Shoot into the sky
Join your battle comrades
The angels of peace flying in the skies
Die at the sound and pain of your wicked gunshots
But they resurrect again
To warn the earth like the prophets of old

Now, carry your guns soldier
For you do not listen to the angels of peace and mercy
You shoot on in the sky
Baying for more blood
The vampire you are
Sent by monsters from the white house, world leaders, Buckingham palace and the Queen of England
War on soldier
Fight like a savage without understanding
The arms of mercy stretch into the sky
The time passes bye
And the demons of war laugh and rejoice
While the prophets speak again
Of a new and golden age
Now war on soldier
For the angels of peace will speak forever
Preserving the earth
After your lust for gold, silver and domination
And the peace will rise again in the hearts of men
Making sacrifices to the angels of peace
War on
For war cannot last forever
And the empire of peace cometh
Like the Biblical New Jerusalem
And God speaks to our hearts
War on soldier
For evil cannot last forever
So says the angel of peace

poem by larry Philosopher
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In A Soldier...You Will Find...

In a soldier...
Loyalty and strength you see.
In a soldier...
Discipline, bravery.
In a soldier...
A world that is free.
In a soldier..
Sacrifice, so the world can be free.
In a soldier...
No compromise.
In a soldier...
Courage in his eyes.
In a soldier...
A special bond.
In a soldier...
Iraq, Viet-Nam.
In a soldier...
Sad, drooped eyes.
In a soldier...
Pain, when a buddy dies.
In a soldier...
Terrible places.
In a soldier...
Tough, grim faces.
In a soldier...
Stories untold.
In a soldier...
Action makes him old.
In a soldier...
Dark, frightening nights.
In a soldier...
Missing his lovely wife.
In a soldier...
Memories of a decent life.
In a soldier...
Scars deep in the mind.
In a soldier...
An exploding mine.
In a soldier...
The thrill of leaving war.
In a soldier...
No more pains anymore.
In a soldier...
No more tears.
In a soldier...
Leaving war, after a long, trying year.

poem by Philip Lore
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A Song For The Irish Militia

The tribune's tongue and poet's pen
May sow the seed in prostrate men;
But 'tis the soldier's sword alone
Can reap the crop so bravely sown!
No more I'll sing nor idly pine,
But train my soul to lead a line
A soldier's life's the life for me
A soldier's death, so Ireland's free!

No foe would fear your thunder words,
If 'twere not for your lightning swords
If tyrants yield when millions pray,
'Tis less they link in war array;
Nor peace itself is safe, but when
The sword is sheathed by fighting men
A soldier's life's the life for me
A soldier's death, so Ireland's free!

The rifle brown and sabre bright
Can freely speak and nobly write
What prophets preached the truth so well
As HOFER, BRIAN, BRUCE, and TELL?
God guard the creed these heroes taught-
That blood-bought Freedom's cheaply bought
A soldier's life's the life for me
A soldier's death, so Ireland's free!

Then, welcome be the bivouac,
The hardy stand, and fierce attack,
Where pikes will tame their carbineers,
And rifles thin their bay'neteers,
And every field the island through
Will show 'what Irishmen can do! '
A soldier's life's the life for me
A soldier's death so Ireland's free!

Yet, 'tis not strength and 'tis not steel
Alone can make the English reel;
But wisdom, working day by day,
Till comes the time for passion's sway
The patient dint and powder shock,
Can blast an empire like a rock.
A soldier's life's the life for me
A soldier's death, so Ireland's free!

The tribune's tongue and poet's pen
May sow the seed in slavish men;
But 'tis the soldier's sword alone
Can reap the harvest when 'tis grown.
No more I'll sing, no more I'll pine,
But train my soul to lead a line
A soldier's life's the life for me
A soldier's death, so Ireland's free.

poem by Thomas Davis
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The Fallen Soldier

Fallen Soldier All Alone
Fallen Soldier Far From Home.
Trickling Down His Face A Tear,
Forgetting How It Feels To Fear
Death And All It's Fate And Glory.
Now It's Here, No Need To Worry.

Fallen Soldier All Alone
Fallen Soldier Far From Home
He's One Of Those They'll All Forget;
The Life He Lived, The Goals He Set,
The Ones He Loved, The Ones Who Wait
To See His Nearly Forgotten Face.

Fallen Soldier All Alone
Fallen Soldier Far From Home
Now Breathing's Just A Waste Of Breath
And Living's Just A Waste Of Death
As He Searches For A New Address;
A Brand New Home Free Of Loneliness.

Fallen Soldier All Alone
Fallen Soldier Far From Home
Lying Motionless On The Ground,
The Battle Raging All Around.
For Now He Is Not All Alone.
This Fallen Soldier Is Welcomed Home.

poem by Branden Hidalgo
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Soldier Going To The War

Soldier going to the war--
Will you take my heart with you,
So that I may share a little
In the famous things you do?

Soldier going to the war--
If in battle you must fall,
Will you, among all the faces,
See my face the last of all?

Soldier coming from the war--
Who shall bind your sunburnt brow
With the laurel of the hero,
Soldier, soldier--vow for vow!

Soldier coming from the war--
When the street is one wide sea,
Flags and streaming eyes and glory--
Soldier, will you look for me?

poem by Richard Le Gallienne
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