Two soldiers met in combat,
Each charged with a job to do...
They came from different countries,
Yet their differences were few.
 
Each fought for their own country's cause,
Whether good or bad...
Each loyal to his own beliefs,
And that is what's so sad.
 
For when they met on their last day,
It mattered not at all,
Who was right and who was wrong,
For both of them would fall.
 
Their features might be different,
Made so because of  their genes...
They became close as brothers,
Where they lay, and with their screams
 
So were they all that different?
The answer is 'Oh No'...
They were so very much alike,
As death would plainly show.
 
They lay where they had fallen,
With outstretched arms and hands...
The blood from both, ran brightest red,
No different... on the sands.
 
(c)  08/15/05 Loree (Mason) O'Neil
 
Midi playing is:  Angel of Death
 

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