As to what must pass through the hearts of the few brave,
Is there madness or courage,
That leads them to stand,
For their goals,
And battle on till the inevitable end.
They must be thinking:
By the grace of God,
Of all that is holy and sacred to this world,
Grant me what I need,
To do what I am placed here to complete.
Grant me the serenity,
To be patient with those I understand the least,
Extending a protective wing,
In their hour of need.
Give me the courage,
To face all trouble,
Even to the cold, inevitable, and final end,
When blood, sweat, and tears merge together,
The love of others,
A final farewell.
Grant me the strength,
To face my inner demons,
Face the devil himself if it is required,
To protect those who can not protect themselves.
Give me the wings of a angel,
to fly past all that would layway my progress,
Only to plummet back,
To the heart of the battle.
Grant me the honor,
To understand what is right and wrong in the world,
Then to pursue injustice,
To settle the score,
Of the wrong to the just,
When the task is completed,
Be humble in the light of glory or the silence of the crowd.
There is much asked of the brave,
So much needed to succeed,
Yet all that is required,
Is the blessings of the beloved,
The rest comes naturally.