The Men Who Choose to Serve

There is no wall to demarcate
Between the dark and light.
The line is drawn between the wrong
and all we know that’s right
with courage and with fortitude
and faith that will not swerve
by men who stand upon the line.
The men who choose to serve.

Freedom’s price is dearly paid,
Then paid and paid again,
by children and by lonely wives
and by those loyal men.
They hold, with flesh and blood and steel
and sometimes with raw nerve,
a line of hope against despair.
The men who choose to serve.

We sleep in peace, we pray in faith,
we work without the fear
that those who seek to do us harm
can ever draw too near
because they keep their faith with us,
with strength and calm reserve,
the men who stand upon the line.
The men who choose to serve.

We owe them more than we can pay
And yet no price is asked
Except for someplace safe to rest
When they’ve laid down the task.
For they know other brave young men,
will step up to the mark
and carry on the task for them,
the fight against the dark.
We owe them more than platitudes
for the price they have paid.
We owe them more than gratitude
for sacrifices made.
We long to, but can’t give full due
of all that they deserve,
we owe too much to all of them,
The men who choose to serve.