The Silent Hero-- The Remembered Name - A Poem

As sure as the mountains crumble
And the river swift runs dry,
As sure as the cities tumble
With a last despairing cry,
As sure as the arrogant army
Falls into defeat and shame,
It's always the silent hero
That has the remembered name.

As sure as the red sun rises
And sets in the west each night,
As sure as the ruler prizes
His jewels and silver bright,
As sure as the king and the king after that
Will rise into power, and fall down flat,
It's always the silent hero that
Has the remembered name.

The fought-for breath in toiling hours
When the sun seems to have set,
The mind that Death sought to empower
And the one he could not get,
That fighting and that victory,
The triumph that we could not see
Could be the one that set us free,
And keeps that freedom yet.

And just as the mountains crumble:
So the ruler's fleeting fame
Will be crushed to dust with its rumble.
(Progress called, their downfall came)
As sure as the evening melts into night
And the day breaks forth with a guiding light,
The silent hero with the hidden might
Has the remembered name.
And if you know you've wandered far
Among the fire-burning stars,
We'll see you just for what you are.
Despite that, just the same:
It's always the silent hero
That has the remembered name

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