Words are often last to be

when horrors of death we see

When the race is running strong

how can words possibly belong

They come later, or even too late

when the warrior meets his fate

When the bravest come to die

word will fail you and I

The blackest of the blackest come

when your heart beats like a drum

The darkest angel moves on past

as the warrior breathes his last

How can words be found that day

How can we know what to say

Only when the shock is done

can the words come into the sun

written on paper or sung in verse

as we salute the warrior in his hearse

But for now will silence reign

as we share this moment's pain

Salute the warrior silently

and for now let feelings free

Words will come when the time is right

Let this hero go into the night