alone he stands
the only noise he makes is the sound of his heels at step
gaurding bodies form a 'no mans' land
a nameless crypt but sacredly kept
he came from a platoon of plenty
they were good but he was excelent
he out shown the rest by many
till another is sent
his task remain forver and perpetuant
he is a worrier like generations of many others
hes mindful and strong to keep there an his stair distant
for the lost worriers mothers
who might always be watching
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem