Author Information
Song for the Unsung
Sing for the many Braves that died,
Without due honors and a funeral,
Who were deference and regard denied,
Thought of expendable and “marginal.”
Bow to the Unsung, sing for all of them!
Incognito they reached highest rung
Upon the ladder to Jerusalem
To take possession of it as "Unsung".
Those perishing in anguish and in pain,
Deprived of solace, comfort and succor,
Extinguished lights in mankind's memory lane,
A-gleam before the Lord for ever more.
All those who died without the loving hand
Of friends, of kith and kin and family,
The countless many who could not withstand
Devouring flames or the high raging sea.
For those that had their high dreams unfulfilled,
Those unaccounted for, and now forgot,
And those for whom no tears were ever spilled,
And heroes buried in the unknown plot.
Sing for those unprepared and much surprised,
That were caught by the Reaper suddenly,
May those attain to fullness in the Christ
Who were denied apt churchly ministry.
Sing for all those that had no eulogy,
But without ceremony were blown off,
As unknown victims of catastrophe,
We recommend them to the Lord of Love!
May He make up for the deficiency
In other realms where they will discard,
Dispel the shroud of anonymity,
And gather in for slights their due reward.
Bow to the shroud of anonymity,
Unsung, unmourned, for whom no tear will fall,
That can not boast of a solemnity,
Nor edifying a memorial.
To those that were denied the proper rite,
A funeral cortege with friends' long train
And wakes upon a well appointed site,
Whose lifes the ministers will not explain.
Sing for the many brave ones whose demise
Elicits yawning and indifference,-
For those departed without kinship ties,
Without exchange of words of condolence.
For whom there will be no memorial,
No prayers offered and no moistened eyes,
No candles lit in churches, no recall,
No memory left for unknown sacrifice.
To those that lie and rest in potters field,
'neath desert sands, or an unscripted urn,
For whom no bells or mourning tocsin pealed,
While scattered ashes rose by high winds borne.
But in the Lord contingencies are stored
To overrule the protocol of man,
Who reads the mind of the Almighty Lord?-
To make them first in our Father’s home.
© Elizabeth Dandy
