The day is done; the sun is gone,
Shadows form on silent graves,
While the eloquent but haunting call of taps,
Salute our fallen braves.
Its melody, beckon us to remember,
Those who fought on air, land, and sea,
While old glory fluttered in the breeze,
They gave their life to keep us free.
The dead sleep the eternal flame,
Mothers weep in the bed of their tears,
As they hear the emotional song of our hearts
Melodic Taps, the music of the spheres.
Copyright @2008 Elizabeth Zara Pagan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem