Diana's

The uniform hangs, neatly pressed, A The un echo of battles blessed. No bugle calls, no marching feet, Just memories bitter, memories sweet. You stood on guard, a watchful eye, Beneath a vast and changing sky. Through scorching sun and chilling rain, You bore the burden, felt the pain. Now rest your weary, valiant soul, Your duty done, you've reached your goal. Though fields of war you leave behind, A peaceful field you're sure to find. Let gratitude be your reward, For sacrifices bravely