A warrior falls in a far off land, down as the battles just begun.
Doing what his country asked, no one to mourn him, Wife, Daughter nor Son.

Only those who called him friend, warriors all, brothers of the gun.
What last thoughts crossed his mind, was it should I have stood or run?

Fisherman then Warrior,” When I’m through here” he said “again a Fisherman I’ll be.”
With The ocean below, he sleeps now on a hill overlooking his beloved sea.

Years have passed, I’m older now, with me life has had it’s way.
Still I see him in my mind young, always the same, as on that last day.

Over the years I have gone to him to talk and just sit from time to time.
Friendship all that matters, then as now little to say, many things on the mind.

How would the world have changed, if that day it had been I not he that found their end?
We’re not to know, as time goes it’s way.
But for now, a single red rose I bring to lay, remembrance of a friend.