The Templar
If nothing was true, and everything was permitted,
We would be due, to a fate worse than death-admitted,
Our eyes would be blind, our voice be silenced,
The prophets life, shall soon lose license,
The Arbiter roars, the Soldier is born,
This small planet, is rendered war-torn,
We took the fight, to a foreign land,
With a common people, that shook our hand,
The People laughed, The Corrupt Men lied,
Because today, the warrior has finally died,
A roar cries out, "Vengeance be mine! ",
And a figure arises, unholy divine,
Revived and new, the Soldier shall fight,
To bring a new end, to the corrupted knight.
poem by Chris Beschutzer Walston
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Related quotes
Soldier, Soldier
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Why don't you march with my true love?"
"We're fresh from off the ship an' 'e's maybe give the slip,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
New love! True love!
Best go look for a new love,
The dead they cannot rise, an' you'd better dry your eyes,
An' you'd best go look for a new love.
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
What did you see o' my true love?"
"I seed 'im serve the Queen in a suit o' rifle-green,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Did ye see no more o' my true love?"
"I seed 'im runnin' by when the shots begun to fly --
But you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Did aught take 'arm to my true love?"
"I couldn't see the fight, for the smoke it lay so white --
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
I'll up an' tend to my true love!"
"'E's lying on the dead with a bullet through 'is 'ead,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
I'll down an' die with my true love!"
"The pit we dug'll 'ide 'im an' the twenty men beside 'im --
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Do you bring no sign from my true love?"
"I bring a lock of 'air that 'e allus used to wear,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
O then I know it's true I've lost my true love!"
"An' I tell you truth again -- when you've lost the feel o' pain
You'd best take me for your true love."
True love! New love!
Best take 'im for a new love,
The dead they cannot rise, an' you'd better dry your eyes,
An' you'd best take 'im for your true love.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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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.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
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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Deaf Gunpowder
Come on soldier.
Soldier?
Get off of your battlefield
Let me take you to a place
Where your weapons are sealed.
Come on soldier.
Soldier?
Look me in the eye
Your heart hasn’t chosen to be here
Then why are you here?
Ask yourself why.
Come on soldier.
Soldier?
It’s time to breathe
It’s time to stop fighting for your life,
For something you don’t believe.
Hey soldier?
Soldier?
I do understand
It wasn’t your choice to be here
But you chose not to fight for that;
You chose to fight for someone else.
That is why in life you were not alive
But when you died,
That was when you started to breathe.
Hey soldier?
Soldier?
I know you cannot hear
Because you strived
You are alive
To you death will never come near.
poem by Mehreen Mujeeb
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So You Want To Be A Soldier
So you want to be a soldier
And learn those fighting moves;
Be a member of a team
In the soldier's school.
So you want to be a soldier
And go far from your home,
And learn there how to be a man
As you fight and roam.
So you want to be a soldier
And hold your buddy's hand,
As they breathe their final,
There on some mortal sand.
So you want to be a soldier
And call the road your bed,
And never know just when or how
You'll lay down your tired head.
So you want to be a soldier
Be buried in some plot-
Maybe far from your hometown,
After you have fought.
So you want to be a soldier-
Well there's no finer choice,
Than giving so unselfishly
To freedoms song, your voice.
You want to be a soldier;
And you could do much worse;
And choose the cowards way to go
And walk, behind the hearse.
But your name they'll remember,
As they speak of you with awe;
And wonder at your bravery,
And wonder what you saw.
Many men will shake your hand
And thank you for their freedom,
They'll say it is a gift from god
That you are still breathing.
You'll live more than other men-
And suffer much more too,
But in the end, you'll count it as
The best thing you could do.
And the biggest thank you,
That you will ever receive,
Is in the eyes of loved ones-
When you're back home again.
So if you know an older soldier,
Please shake his hand today
And tell him that you're grateful
He chose the soldier's way.
poem by Patti Masterman
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A Soldier's Poem
There is a time when sounds of war will ring
And songs of Liberty and Freedom we will sing. As the brave soldier stands at the point of fight,
he or she may fear for what is right. For the reasons of war; land, power, hunger or greed,
We know to maintain peace, I guess "War" is what we need So as the soldier stands at the eye of his enemy,
He shoots the enemy down and prays for his eternity. Only God knows who is right or who is wrong
but with God's strength our country shall stand strong And for the lives that suffered, we will mourn
Because of them our flag shall not be torn! Let us learn and remember the important of peace,
And pray to God for this War to cease! "Desert Storm 90-91"
A mission never to be forgotten"
poem by Melissa L. Phillips
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The Day of Battle
"Far I hear the bugle blow
To call me where I would not go,
And the guns begin the song,
'Soldier, fly or stay for long.'
"Comrade, if to turn and fly
Made a soldier never die,
Fly I would, for who would not?
'Tis sure no pleasure to be shot.
"But since the man that runs away
Lives to die another day,
And cowards' funerals, when they come,
Are not wept so well at home,
"Therefore, though the best is bad,
Stand and do the best, my lad;
Stand and fight and see your slain,
And take the bullet in your brain."
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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God's Grief
"Lord God of Hosts," the people pray,
"Make strong our arms that we may slay
Our cursed foe and win the day."
"Lord God of Battles," cries the foe,
"Guide us to strike a bloody blow,
And lay the adversary low."
But brooding o'er the battle smother
Bewails the Lord: "Brother to brother,
Why must ye slaughter one another?
When will ye come to understand
My peace, and hand reach out to hand,
In every race, in every land?"
And yet, his weary words despite,
Went murderously on the fight,
Till God from mankind hid His sight,
Saying: "Poor children, must you gain
To brotherhood through millions slain?
--Was anguish on the Cross in vain?"
poem by Robert William Service
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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.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
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Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
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war war war war war war war war war war war war
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Fiddle-Dee-Dee
There once was a bird that lived up in a tree,
And all he could whistle was "Fiddle-dee-dee" -
A very provoking, unmusical song
For one to be whistling the summer day long!
Yet always contented and busy was he
With that vocal recurrence of "Fiddle-dee-dee."
Hard by lived a brave little soldier of four,
That weird iteration repented him sore;
"I prithee, Dear-Mother-Mine! fetch me my gun,
For, by our St. Didy! the deed must be done
That shall presently rid all creation and me
Of that ominous bird and his 'Fiddle-dee-dee'!"
Then out came Dear-Mother-Mine, bringing her son
His awfully truculent little red gun;
The stock was of pine and the barrel of tin,
The "bang" it came out where the bullet went in -
The right kind of weapon I think you'll agree
For slaying all fowl that go "Fiddle-dee-dee"!
The brave little soldier quoth never a word,
But he up and he drew a straight bead on that bird;
And, while that vain creature provokingly sang,
The gun it went off with a terrible bang!
Then loud laughed the youth - "By my Bottle," cried he,
I've put a quietus on 'Fiddle-dee-dee'!"
Out came then Dear-Mother-Mine, saying: "My son,
Right well have you wrought with your little red gun!
Hereafter no evil at all need I fear,
With such a brave soldier as You-My-Love here!"
She kissed the dear boy.
(The bird in the tree
Continued to whistle his "Fiddle-dee-dee")
poem by Eugene Field
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The Patriot Returns
Battered and broken I return to you
My time spent in battle is finally through
My country served proudly, I stood the test
I fought side by side with our nations best
I am A soldier, A patriot, true to the cause
My American heart beats without pause
Any time any place any where
This soldier will stand tall and be there
I love my country and will protect her at all cost
I fight for the old, the young, the weak and the lost
I fight for an ideal that is greater than I
I don’t complain, or whine or ask why
But for the time being I am home with you
My duty served my task is thru
But I’ll be watching, over there and over here
And I’ll be putting a hand to my ear
For if ever this soldier is again called to fight
I’ll lace up my boots and do what’s right
Look out world the Devil Dogs are on hand
Ready to fight in the air, on the sea or on land
poem by James Waters
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American Soldier
American Soldier
When I say... 'I am an American Soldier'
I'm not shouting I'm better than you.
I'm whispering, I was a boy, and now
find myself a man.
When I say... 'I am an American
Soldier'
I speak not only of this with pride
I'm also confessing that I stumble,
make mistakes,
And need competent leadership to
help guide me,
So I in turn,
can be a competent leader.
When I say... 'I am an American
Soldier'
I'm not trying to be strong,
I'm professing that I am weak and
need the strength of my peers and
country,
To help carry me on.
When I say... 'I am an American
Soldier'
I'm not bragging of past successes
I'm admitting I have failed in the past
Admitted the mistakes and tried to
right the wrongs.
When I say... 'I am an American
Soldier'
I'm not claiming to be perfect,
My flaws are far too visible
But my country needs me,
and I soldier on.
When I say... 'I am an American
Soldier'
I can still feel the sting of pain, from
seeing those that I care about die,
While we fight for those that we love.
I have my share of heartaches,
So I call upon the American People to
help guide our soldiers, when home
When I say... 'I am an American
Soldier'
I'm not better than thou,
I'm just a simple man,
Who was called upon by his country
to fight.
By: Michael Anthony, Author of: Mass Casualties: A Young Medic's True Story of Death, Deception, and Dishonor in Iraq. (Available at your local bookstore or online at: www.MassCasualties.com)
[Originally inspired by a Carol Wimmer poem.)
poem by Michael Anthony
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The New Knighthood
Who gives him the Bath?
"I," said the wet,
Rank-Jungle-sweat,
"I'll give him the Bath!"
Who'll sing the psalms?
"We," said the Palms.
"Ere the hot wind becalms,
"We'll sing the psalms."
Who lays on the sword ?
"I," said the Sun,
Before he has done,
"I'll lay on the sword."
"Who fastens his belt?
"I," said Short-Rations,
" I know all the fashions
"Of tightening a belt!"
Who gives him his spur?
"I," said his Chief,
Exacting and brief,
"I'll give him the spur."
Who'll shake his hand?
"I," said the Fever,
"And I'm no deceiver,
"I'll shake his hand."
Who brings him the wine?
"I," said Quinine,
"It's a habit of mine.
"I'11 come with his wine."
Who'll put him to proof?
"I," said All Earth.
"Whatever he's worth,
"I'll put to the proof."
Who'll choose him for Knight?
"I," said his Mother,
"Before any other,
"My very own Knight."
And after this fashion, adventure to seek,
Sir Galahad was made--as it might be last week!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Ch 01 Manner of Kings Story 21
It is narrated that an oppressor of the people, a soldier, hit the head of a pious man with a stone and that the dervish, having no means of taking vengeance, preserved the stone till the time arrived when the king became angry with that soldier, and imprisoned him in a well. Then the dervish made his appearance and dropped the stone upon his head. He asked: "Who art thou, and why hast thou hit my head with this stone?" The man replied: "I am the same person whom thou hast struck on the head with this stone on such and such a day." The soldier continued: "Where hast thou been all this time?" The dervish replied: "I was afraid of thy dignity but now when I beheld thee in the well I made use of the opportunity."’
When thou seest an unworthy man in good luck
Intelligent men have chosen submission.
If thou hast not a tearing sharp nail
It will be better not to contend with the wicked.
Who grasps with his fist one who has an arm of steel
Injures only his own powerless wrist.
Wait till inconstant fortune ties his hand.
Then, to please thy friends, pick out his brains.
World Wars
Soldiers Fight. Enemies Fight Back
World Wars Come To An End.
The Loved Ones Go And Fight For They're People.
They Shall Fight For Land
They Shall Fight For Glory
They Fight For The People That Live.
They Shall Not Let Anyone Down
They Must Do Much As They Can.
The Soldiers Fight.
The Soldiers Protect.
Once One Soldier Dies, Others Soldiers Die
they must bring peace to the land they protect.
We Remember The People Who Went To War.
Some Of The Families Lost A Member In War.
Some Of The Families Didn't Lost A Member In War.
In War, It's Hard To Survive In War.
You Gotta Be Strong And Brave.
The War Is All About The People We Care About And Keeping Enemies Away.
poem by Sonya Wesley
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I am a soldier
(explanation - This about a soldier who has gone through all walks of life, faced it all..carried burdens...its left him so shallow that he likes d feeling of it..being emotionless....considering himself a machine...people respect him....everyone likes it.its what he wants us to be like 'a soldier'....carry on with life as if nothing has happened....u cannot say that u have suffered d most when u cont even compare your hardships with others, ....
its the total feeling of overcoming it..like u won a battle)
I love the pain of a wound
I love the pain of a bullet in me
I live with an anger in me
I am a soldier and I love this feeling in me
I walk on streets with respect
with a motive to make it perfect
perfect for any threat
perfect for any kind of death
I can face death million times
so tat families can safely dine
I am a soldier and I love this feeling in me
lost a leg because I stepped on a landmine
just to see kids smiling across the borderline
I have no regrets being a soldier
can take much more on my shoulder
can face bullets being brave n bolder
I am a soldier and I love this feeling in me
I am emotionless, I am fearless
I see blood all day and I am merciless
I am not a killing machine, I am just a living machine
there is no mercy in my eyes, there is no love in my cries
I am a soldier and I love this feeling in me
I can write no more soldier
I can fight no more soldier
this is all I could do for you
this how far I could go for you
you r a soldier, you r a soldier
I am a soldier and I love this feeling in me! ! !
poem by Shashank Shekhar Roy
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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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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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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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Not Born In Sin
Russian family running for their lives
jumps over barbwire Russian fence
they don't get stuck-fence is sharp as a knife.
Only baby gets stuck with her wrap
Bolshevik soldiers show up
Russian family is scared off their ____.
One Bolshevik soldier soul is wise
He gives other soldier his rifle-
let's little baby and Russian family survive.
In barbwire fence soldier does go-
He rescues baby and instantly is not a foe.
Russian family goes to America where freedom prevails
Bob their grandson is born who hears of this tale.
I heard it today and had tears in my eyes
We humans are not "born in sin" or "evil"
this Bolshevik soldier was a good guy
and proved this judgment otherwise.
Written by Christina Sunrise on March 12,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Promise Of A Lie
Go to war young soldier,
Your glory will be praised.
Go to war young soldier,
Your home will stay the same.
Fight for us young soldier,
worry naught about your love.
Fight for us young soldier,
She waits for your return.
Welcome home young soldier,
Heres the medal upon your chest.
Welcome home young soldier,
Your life is now a mess.
Go away young soldier,
We have no more use for you.
Go away young soldier,
Till we call again for you.