Senior Soldier

A man puts his feet back on the ground,
Stronger than a lion, weaker than before,
The last of his litter, living his 94th,
His eyes and ears slowly fade,
Yet his feet remain above the dirt,
And he stands at the top of his fort,
His house, on a hill, as high as his will,
To carry on in a world pass his time,
But then sometimes,
Fate would climb the hill,
To bring him to the valley of the dead,
With a scythe to cut away his rod,
To prevent him from walking away,
And there will come that day,
But not today, his legs still trample the ground,
And with each laugh, an insult to the
stroke that made an attempt,
Surviving longer than most men,
A gallant walks the earth.

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