From the battlefield a lone horseman retreated
his comrades never to leave.
The wounded soldier holding his head high
hearing his friends pitiful cries!
Veteran of many conflicts there was no choice
he had to be their voice!
Proud to be the bearer of the regiments colours
he had to return to headquarters.
To report the massacre of such a heroic band
heavy in heart he had to depart.
With the risk of capture he made his way
realising ahead dangers lay!
From that bloody battlefield he rode on at a rise
turned to salute his comrades.
Never to ride with them again in this mortal life
he was fatally wounded.
This his last mission to make one final report
and tell them how brave they fought.
Somehow many days later near the headquarters
the soldier was found near death.
His horse standing firm as though protecting him
the standard firmly in his hand.
With appalling injuries he completed his obligation
and honoured by an indebted nation!
From the battlefield site it’s said he’s seen even now
regiment colours flying high!
The Fouryed Poet.
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