He went into God's presence with his gun and bowed
In fervent session of prayers with all his heart he vowed
Never to die with't his gun; with his remains and in a grave they'll be stowed
He followed through every command, but he never ceased to march and stand
His gun continually spat arrows of fire but never ceased in his hand
He weep at the sight of his fallen brothers but never ceased in war band
He could'a been with his love but he had no choice
His heart beat could'a been heard from afar but it had no voice
He could'a retreated at the gates of blood but there was no victory to rejoice
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem