A Journal for Western Man-- Issue V
Don Watkins III
A man who stands, alone and tired, in dawn’s desolate path
Looks upon the men who lost in their last stand against death
It was not simply bravery, nor courage, save his life
But love for something deeper, that kept him through the night
Not his brother nor his mother nor his sister nor his dad
It was his love of freedom that saved this saintly man
And as the wind blows by the face of hero born again
Another revolution gives rebirth in a new land
A land where heroes flourish (not perish on a cross)
A land where strength is worshipped, not sacrifice and loss
But now he stands, alone and tired, in dawn’s newly lighted way
Knowing that their love for life was the price which some men paid.
