The Brave Poem by Sara Militello

The Brave

They are those who do not break
even as the scepter wrests
what glory there be
standing alone against tyranny
as meek, silent-staring eyes gather
to look askance at the tasks left undone.

The brave often stand alone and die that way.
They'll lie peaceful, silent, unseeing.
Finally uncaring.

They stood alone - and died that way-
never knew silent-staring shame
for the tasks left undone.

The brave die alone against brute power
every day and on every windswept plain.
And spill their blood that the meek
inherit a world they cannot bear to know.

From sea to shining sea.

November 6,1994