An Elegy to the Fallen--for a Friend

A friend of mine lost someone very dear to him. She did not make it. I grieve for him as he grieves for her this Christmas. This poem is for him.

The Fallen

Gone before us, some have fallen. No more breath, the air is still. The heavenly anthem dims.  The sky mourns. The earth accepts the dead again.

Our hearts are never enough for all our crying. Our tears too full from all the dying. Our thoughts troubled, wondering, sighing. The silent sounds of them who broke, who fell; too much to bear.

But we are the living. And humbly before them bow. We stand for them. We shoulder sword and spear and shield. We will not, cannot yield, to horde and foe. We hold, and to them our honor give.

If they cannot live, we will live for them. And through their candles gone out, and dreams and visions given way, we will endure the shadows in the valley although we mourn, we lose, and something of us has gone away.

Along calm waters may you go, to lie down in green where breezes gently blow. Be at rest. Take your leave. Think nothing while I grieve for you. My heart, full of love for you. My lips, your name recalls. Had I been there to catch you when you fall . . .

But we are the living. And humbly before you bow. I stand for you. I shoulder sword and spear and shield. I will not, cannot yield, to horde and foe. I hold, and to you my honor give.