Pickett`s futile, and fateful charge at Gettysburg.
Some call me now the "Bloody Wall"
By restless wind caressed
Borne from the mouths of dying men,
That fateful single breath.
A July day so long ago
That they did come to call,
To stand and face their final foe,
And take this bloody wall.
They came as one, with flag held high
Through deadly hail of fire,
Nowhere to turn, just keep right on,
Their situation dire.
And here it was that they did lie
Across my stony head
No more to see the Battleflag,
Nor lift their weary head
As they did raise the final breath,
What memories did slide,
And settle in my stonework,
Evermore to hide.
I feel the pain of loved ones lost,
Of wife, now left behind,
These mortal men paid such a cost,
For glory there to find.
And now each year, they come on back,
These Re-enactors bold,
Yet do not see the men who died,
Lay on my breast, so cold.
Yet they are here among you,
But you will never see,
For the men that went before you,
Outlive their history