The shriek of dead silence or a slight ruckus,
Birds fluttering or leaves shaking to the ground
After the guns crackle and twinkle with red white and blue.
Amidst the smoke, the star spangled banner of canons,
Roaring in silent fields of fear faced men behind the mantle of honor
And generals high on horses,
Commanding young men to point and pledge an undying loyalty
to the divided soil.

Defining gray powder sounds-BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The rhythm of vertigo, deaths demon perched awfully in the ear.
The Revolution a muffled echo in exhausted feet,
Skin split hands grip the extension of I pledge allegiance,
one nation under god, indivisible with liberty and justice for
all.

Knuckles white, like the ghosts of or memories,
Ache in the task of carefully distributing bread rash-ins.
The clanking of my rifle and its crude wood and steel,
Still hot with death,
Reminds me of sacrifice, what I have lost,
What I have forfeited in the act.
That I have traded a wife and child for this distinguished approbation.

Most men cry alone here.

Proudly we march and civilly we line up,
turn and face the bright sun.