Once, in the land of the golden
skies, many of our bravest died under the golden sun. I
look often to the sun to see their faces as if hidden in its golden
glory. Perhaps shinning as bright as the light of life's last sight.
With death calling, the unluckiest were taken, but I have not forgotten
the men who had died. Though I was left unknowing,
as they left before me, before their time, beneath the golden skies of
the land of the gone, but not forgotten...........
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