Into a place of death and sorrow, bare
Distraught hands tremble stiffly in the dark
Against the broken tank. Small bullets dare
Ricochet; bright bloods overflow and mark

Apparent to all, Death awaits in hope;
Yet, fury and loss fuel them to cheat
A rain of doom falls down and looks to choke
The last of breath before peace settles deep

In solemn times, with one last puff of smoke
And one last swig of whiskey; they embrace
Their end with rueful sadness and evoke
The pangs of pain and grief. To wish for grace,

For their deeds could not save them from the brim,
But only from above can He redeem.