Echoes of the Past

More about Echoes of the Past

He marched with boots not yet worn thin,
A boy with fire alight within.
The world was wide, the cause was grand,
He bore a rifle in his hand.

He dreamed of skies in foreign lands,
Of helping hearts with healing hands.
“To save, not kill,” he used to say,
As hope still lit his dawning day.

The train rolled on through fields and towns,
Past teary waves and distant sounds.
He smiled and waved, so proud, so free—
A soldier bound for history.

Though war would steal his youth too fast,
His dreams of peace would always last.
For even in the darkest strife,
He held a torch—a guard of life.