dreamed it would be me,
my name for all eternity,
recorded here at this hallow place,
alas, my name, no more my face.
"In the line of duty," I hear them say:
my family now the price to pay.
My folded flag stained with their tears;
we only had those few short years.
The Patch no longer on my Sleeve,
I sleep now in eternal rest.
My sword I pass to those behind,
and pray they keep this thought in mind.
I never dreamed it would be me,
and with heavy heart and bended knee,
I ask for all here from the past:
Dear God, let my name be the last.
By: David Dubba