Portrait of a Warrior

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One response to “Portrait of a Warrior

  1. It is one thing to read the names of the somewhere, it grieves my heart so, but it is quite another to view these portraits, which I could not do without sobbing… I am so grateful to this man for painting their faces on my heart.

    OH WAR, OH WAR, HOW SAD TO SAY

    Oh War, oh War, how sad to say,
    You take our sons and daughters far away.
    To subdue tyrants and those who rule,
    With hearts so evil and ever cruel.

    Oh War oh War, how sad to say,
    Always there is a price to pay.
    There born on shoulders bowed with care,
    Comes the coffins of the young who dare.

    Oh War, oh War, how sad to say,
    Many are the tears of mothers that fall on that day.
    When their dear child is finally laid to rest,
    In the soil of their country for which they gave their best.

    Oh War, oh War, how sad to say,
    Too many are the children who cease to play.
    Tears fall from little eyes which will never begin
    To understand why they won’t see Mother or Father again.

    Oh War, Oh War, how sad to say,
    You take life’s one great love in your disarray.
    No more in this life their cherished face to see,
    The darkness of that hour bends the knee.

    Oh War, Oh War, how sad to say,
    Stray bullets that wind and find whatever target they may,
    While turning and winding, an innocent victim take,
    And those deadly spheres leave two in their wake.

    Oh War, Oh War, how sad to say,
    Hearts of the courageous break as those shells betray.
    Memories must be carried by those who are brave,
    Of necessary deeds which make their souls rave.

    Oh War, Oh War how sad to say,
    Sometimes the best return with wounds from the fray.
    They leave strong when first they depart,
    Then come home and a new life they must start.

    Oh War, Oh War, how sad to say,
    Always again the ruthless will follow the same way.
    Once more the call will go out
    For those who know what warmongers are about.

    Oh War, oh War, how sad to say,
    The price of freedom is never stayed.
    Pruning hooks and plows must be beat,
    Into weapons your dread disease to defeat.

    Oh War, oh War, how sad to say,
    With words and pleadings greedy men will not be swayed.
    Yet the promise will one day be made complete,
    By One who to a cross was nailed by his hands and his feet.

    Oh, War, Oh War, on that glad day,
    The Son of God will come to lead the way.
    The final victory He will take,
    No more will sin sad hearts make.

    Oh War, Oh War, you are going away,
    Peace and happiness for all will come in your stay.
    The lion and the lamb will together lie down,
    And God’s praises we’ll shout, making a joyful sound.
    By Debra LeCompte
    June 2010

    Like

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