Bataan

They came from the land of the rising sun,
Commanders with sword and guardsmen with gun.
As if from he sea, they rose from the coasts.
As if from the grave, they moved as ghosts.

We fell from our watches, our vigilance high,
We saw our own brothers wither and die.
As they fall, friends called out to their heavenly hosts.
As if from the grave, they moved as ghosts.

The Emperor's men came and stood, poised to strike,
While elsewhere, our comrades would fall to the Reich.
And the nations did cry as we fell from our posts.
As if from the grave, they moved as ghosts.

Still, King let us to die and waved his white flag.
He handed us over in suit and in rag.
My city did fall with strange soldiers engrossed.
As if from the grave, they moved as ghosts.

So they took us to march from south to the north.
The diseased and the dying were all put forth,
The walking wounded under Japanese boasts.
As if from the grave, they moved as ghosts.

And they offered no quarter to brown or to white,
And the kindest of mercies: reprieve in the night.
And we marched in the sun, in the field, on the coasts;
As if from the grave, they moved as ghosts.

We died on that highway, carved cruel in the dirt,
The thoughts of our lovers our only comfort.
And we walked on for freedom, a right foremost.
As if from the grave, they moved as ghosts.

Now we are but men lost forever in time,
Our story told in pricture, word, and in rhyme.
Tell of our tale, the men who marched from our posts.
Say, "As if from the grave, they moved as ghosts."

January 11, 2008, Writing 12
(The focus was to have a line, perhaps unifying, that repeated throughout the poem. I wrote of the Bataan Death March.)