Make my death a canticle for peace
Make my death a canticle for peace.
Evil has no greater friend than anger,
Making ready converts to its cause.
On me think but of beauty as you pause,
Remembering the service of a stranger
In giving life to purchase your release.
Armies live according to their art.
Love of life at times requires death,
Defending what would else find hungry jaws.
As you enjoy the gift of every breath,
Yet mourn for me with morning in your heart.
By: Nicholas Gordon
Poems Created By & © Nicholas Gordon