There's a price paid for the liberties we cherish. As I stood, silent, tears streaming dowm my cheeks, a bugler sounded a last fairwell to a dear friend, a comrade in arms, a hero. In the hallowed earth of Arlington, he rests. In his memory I wrote these words.
Taps carried on a sunset's breeze
Old Glory lowered at day's end
I remember when those bugler's notes
Were played to say "Amen"
Coffin draped with Spangled Banner
Brave soldier laid to rest
We're gifted a hero's sacrifice
Those sad brass tones attest
"The scarlet cost of freedom"
"Bloody price of liberty"
Simpler words express it best;
"Freedom is not free."
