Walking through the cemetery,
Watching the guards at the Tomb,
I look at Old Glory, flying proudly,
As I look, soldiers present arms.

When the full moon shines on our headstones, over 300,000,
Each is a silver beacon, a memorial flame to honor and
Sacrifice that will never be extinguished.
The markers stand in neat rows and columns,
Tall and stiff as a military formation.

The Tomb of the Unknowns, soldiers who were
Unidentified when they were brought here,
Are not strangers to me.
I know their names, and I know their stories.

My comrades and I rise and salute whenever a
Caisson arrives with another fallen brother. But we
Wonder why they keep coming, why the fighting
and Dying continue. Will the sacrifice ever be great enough?

We must never forget,
The things they did,
The loss they suffered,
As they protected our country, our freedom.