ANATOMY OF A WARRIOR
DaVinci drew the perfect male
Upon his easel, years ago,
Yet there is still a tale to tell
About a warrior's truest mold.
We'll start this portrait of a man,
Right at the top, within the face.
With eagle eyes he scans the land;
We look for fear and find no trace.
Behold his shoulders, broad and square,
And just below, a heart, full proud.
In muscled arms, his weapons bear;
He stands out, even in a crowd.
His legs and feet are fully formed;
Well trained to render task at hand.
In battle, mind and heart transformed;
A change his comrades understand.
Born one of us, some mother's son;
Now soldier proud, for all to see.
Give thanks to him, for he's the one
That bears the cost of being free.
When enemy fire cuts him down,
Angels shall wing his soul to peace.
We'll lay him gently in the ground
And sing our prayers for his release.
Another son shall take his place;
One just as battle-forged as he.
With minds, souls and loving grace,
Praise God for his anatomy.
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