Arlington

An army in green fields, ever vigilant, ever silent, ever still. Their honor ever their shields, falter, they never will. They've fought their fight, served how and when they were needed. They've earned their reprieve from the harsh, glaring light, but their post, after all this time, they still haven't ceded. Stones, shaped to stand and dressed in white, mark where they lie, mute through the years. Not voiceless, though, for there are those who remember their fight; when called on by one such in need, their steadfastness appears. Carrying on their legacy, are those who continue to add to their venerated ranks. Some call them soldiers, some fools and some heroes; some see the endless marble formation and give thanks. Down the somber rows reflective feet tread, seeking friends, family, or simply to respect those who gave all. Regardless of race, gender, creed, religion, or homestead, ever onward, kin they are; ever together they stand tall. Never forget why they're in those green fields; the battlefields they crossed, the kin they left behind, to grieve and remember. Regret young and old gone too soon, innocence and family forever lost, but don't begrudge their sacrifice - with our lives burns their eternal ember.