Freedom's Way

A young man stood one quiet day
Upon the path called Freedom's Way.
The Way was narrow, true and straight
And paved by men who'd bourne it's weight.

Upon each side stood War and Strife,
Monsters gi'en godless life.
And cries of battle pierced the air
As warriors fought the Way to clear.

The lad saw soldiers, brave and strong,
Fallen, wounded, fighting on.
He paused in fear of battles great
And saw a soldier at the gate.

The soldier, old and battle aged,
Stood proud and strong at Freedom's Gate.
Upon the lad his gaze he turned
And at his words the lad's heart burned.

"Son, look you well on Freedom's Way.
Remember well the lives they gave.
War and Strife would break it down
But for those men who stand their ground.

"For by their choice they keep at bay
Those who'd destroy this blood-bought Way.
The folks who travel Freedom's Road
Know not the lives that carve each stone."

The lad looked out with tear-filled sight
And saw the crosses, white on white.
He closed his eyes and bowed his head.
He took the soldiers hand and said,

"You've shown me what I would not see,
Those lives they gave to keep me free.
For tho' I've trod it day by day,
I'd never noticed Freedom's Way.

"The Way to others now I'll show
And Freedom's price shall all be told.
For, by their loss, they offered gain
That Freedom might not ebb or wane."

A young man stood one quiet day
Upon the path called Freedom's Way
And taught the lesson he had learned
Of what those crosses proved was earned.

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