There Is A Dream Called America… so fragile it can only be whispered.
There is a dream called America… so fragile one can barely whisper it, I fear it may not survive the winter. Come, let us whisper now; that this dream may yet find spring.
A great wind has risen in the midst of this dream… bringing havoc upon this placid and pleasant place. A troublesome storm blows hard upon the foundations of liberty and the American dream. Will there be men of cause, too stand against this tempest course; too, hold high liberty’s light, that others may rally to her fight?
Will there yet be found a people, whose dreams are fixed upon that crown… That freedom may yet abound? Or, has the sound of furry, brought low the hope of liberties call, to one and all? I say arise and no more whisper liberty’s song… But raise an anthem, to silence the wind and with the blood of tyrants… let us, refresh the tree of liberty, once again.
There is a dream called America… So fragile it can only be whispered. Let us no more in silence speak, but with one voice, fix fast this dream… That, our progeny may sing… of Spring renewed, of summers long and Autumns… anew. Send now winter’s worst… for our dreams, our hopes, our whispers, are no more silent… Loose now the fragile trappings of liberty, from the yoke of tyranny.
Let this dream called America, become our vision… Let, the wind of tyrants no more lay hold of hopes long suffered, too deny liberty and our progeny, their dreams. Come let us whisper no more, but with new found reason, let us raise the anthem high… and shout, that those who yet can not hear… may join this chorus clear. Let us lift the curtain, upon our dreams… That liberty may ring, and our children sing, long… of liberty certain.
COL. USArmy (Ret.)