We do not mourn in silence now —
we speak in thunder,
for the dead who did not flee
when the hour was grave and the sky was red.

From Lexington’s frost to Kandahar’s dust,
they stood —
not for glory,
but for the man beside them
and the home they carried in their chest like a last breath.

They were farmers, welders, dreamers, sons —
mothers, lovers, daughters, friends —
and when the call came,
they became the unreturning tide
that washes freedom ashore

at a cost only the fallen truly know.

Their names are written
in the marrow of this nation.
Their blood is the ink in every amendment.
And though the banners fade,
their sacrifice does not.

This day,
we do not glorify war —
we sanctify courage.
We do not worship violence —
we remember valor.
And we do not forget —

because they did not flinch.

Raise the torch high,
not to burn,
but to illuminate the path they paved
with their bones and their belief
that liberty was worth dying for.

You who walk freely now:
Hold their memory like a live ember.
Let it sear away your apathy
and warm the chamber of your resolve.

Because they are not gone.
They are watching.
And they are waiting …..
for us to be worthy.