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Avenging Angel

Mari Booth

A Legion of Angels descended on earth, to wage an epic war.
Disguised as boys, they stood when called, and traveled to lands afar.
An evil scourge had arisen, and threatened World domination.
These boys became great Warriors; a shield, in defense of our Nation.

Their stories are collective, yet, each one retains the right
to be remembered on their own, for what they gave to the fight.
What qualities does he possess? What caliber of man does it take?
To be the one, we still call upon, when the future is at stake?

He’s there in silent vigil, his eyes are sharp and alert.
He listens for the slightest sound, while crouching in the dirt.
He’s ready to take action, he knows what must be done.
He’ll never quit. He won’t give up, til the battle has been won.

The first one called into the field, he’s the last, who will depart.
He draws his sword, and weilds it with conviction in his heart.
He’s a member of a brotherhood, whose legends are so clever:
“C’mon, you sons of bitches! Do you wanna live forever?”

There is no hesitation when he hears the battle cry.
He lives and breaths his duty. He will be Semper Fi!
He’ll charge into the fiercest fight, and forge onward, until death.
If everyone around him falls, he’ll fight to his last breath.

The Avenging Angel does his job with eyes as cold as steel.
He knows the damage in his heart, is his, alone, to feel.
For if he fails, our lives will be forever changed, for worse.
So he fights on, to save the world, from Evil’s unholy curse.

Who goes there in the darkness? Who keeps us safe from harm?
Who battles with our enemies, and stands for us at dawn?
Who is this one, who knows no fear? Whose actions keep us free?
Whose service is ordained by God, for the sake of Liberty?

Who knows firsthand the price for keeping terror from our shores?
They’re the ones who fight for honor, for country and for Corps.
This Legion guards the gates of Heaven. It is from whence, they came.
We owe them what we hold most dear, and all should know their name.

God sent to us his most elite of Angels, without wings.
They’re called: The Few. The Proud. The Brave. The United States Marines.
The years pass in succession. The Old Warriors, step aside.
And bowing to their history, the young ones, lead with pride.
The elders share their memories, and won’t forget the cost,
of life and limb; of blood and hope, that was forever lost.

For them, the war will never end. It rages in their dreams.
And on their knees, they pray each night, God hears their silent screams.
The eyes of steel are windows now, to the horror and the pain,
they must relive, in flashes, when they travel memory lane.

Few who are protected, will ever know the price,
they have paid, while watching friends, make the ultimate sacrifice.
The peace they gave to others, eludes them in this life.
Their pain: a badge of honor, to have lived through all the strife.

They gave their youth and innocence, to make a stand so bold,
the strain was overwhelming, they were prematurely old.
But they need never worry, nor pray for absolution,
for God has not forsaken those He sent on this great mission.

Someday these men will close their eyes, and be granted eternal sleep.
History will erase the lies, vindication is theirs to keep.
The flag they held allegience to, will now, and forever, wave,
and drape our heroes coffins, when they’re lowered in their grave.

And when at last, they’re put to rest, their swords, beside them lay.
Their medals, displayed on their chest, give testament to that day
they stood and took their place, amongst a force like none have seen.
For they were once, and always are, a United States Marine.

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