Arlington Sleeps

Upon the hill where silence grows,
Where marble lines in stillness close,
A thousand names the earth has kept
Here, Arlington, the brave have slept.

Beneath the oaks, beneath the stone,
Lie those who faced the fight alone,
And those in ranks, in skies, in seas,
Now cradled by eternity’s breeze.

The bugle weeps at close of day,
A final hymn where heroes lay.
Each grave a story, cut too short,
Each flag a silent last report.

No anthem swells, no crowds remain,
Just whispers in the falling rain.
Yet here, the nation bows its head
To walk among the honored dead.

Not just for glory, medals, fame
But duty carried without name.
A nurse, a son, a friend once near,
Now part of sacred silence here.

And still, the rows reach toward the blue,
A solemn march forever true.
They ask no praise, no grand display
Just memory that does not stray.

So may we tread with humbled pace
Upon this ground, this hallowed place.
For freedom blooms where sorrow lies
And peace is bought where valor dies.