Long grows the shadow of tyranny upon the land… cold, the hand of the despot upon our liberty, falls. Who will stand, who will go, who will answer the call of the fallen… Whose blood, did pave the streets of liberty. We few, we few men, whose lives did bleed, cry out from the grave… Come, stay the course true and live in peace forever renewed… die not the cowards curse, make sure freedom’s thirst…
Can the bards of time so eloquently lift, their voices to cry …. Give us liberty or give us death… and not be heard? Can there be so few, yet in this land, too rally round the tree of liberty? Whose voice shall our children dance too or labor, now; whose cheers of joy shall our wives, great … Will it be free men, or the slaves of a new plantation…
Were comes this cry for justice in our land of law… Who is it, that has turned the servant of the people, too be their master’s… Call. Will justice be blind, in a land bartered by men, whose black robes so aptly hide their souls… within. Let the world know, that the law is servant, of the people and the unjust judge will be overturned on appeal, to a people… True.
Woe to the tyrant whose eyes seize upon another’s life and property… thinking to entice the wicked, too engage with him, as his appetite grows bold for more… Until, there is no more. Then, shall we hear the voice of the oppressed rise to heaven… and the Supreme Judge, of the Land, shall speak judgment upon the wicked.
Look up, for the day grows short… and the sun soon sets; then darkness will cover the wicked, for a time and a season… But in the morning, judgment comes, upon the wings of an angel, it comes… For, the tyrant shall not escape his end… it is certain… deaths curtain, shall embrace him; tomorrow and tomorrow, with an eternity of sorrow. Greet now they makers voice, with joy… Rejoice for He alone, will bring a conclusion to this all… With liberty, we shall brake the bounds of the despot’s call… with the voice of freedom, we shall rally all.
Col. US Army (ret)