Where rows of white, like silent sentinels, extend,
Beyond the reach of sight, a spectral, endless blend.
A hollowed ground, a place of hushed despair,
An echo of the past, beyond compare.

These stones, etched with names, a whispered, fading trace,
Of lives lived briefly, leaving not a space.
A timeless tapestry of sorrow and of grace,
An eternal reminder, etched in this desolate place.

For in this quiet realm, where shadows softly creep,
We find a solemn truth that courageous soldiers fell asleep.
The whispers of the wind, a mournful, gentle sigh,
Remind us of the moments that forever fly.

And as we stand before this silent, somber scene,
A poignant truth unfolds, a lesson to be keen.
That life, though fleeting, leaves an imprint, deep and true,
A hallowed ground of memories, forever new.

The sun descends, and stars begin to gleam,
Above this hallowed ground, a somber, quiet dream.
A testament to time, a passage in their wake
An eternal vigil, for the souls we’ve lost, for goodness’ sake.

© c.f. leach, 2025. Copyright protected. All rights reserved

Photograph of Arlington National Cemetery