Post 318 Honor Guard, strong and true, Walking steady for the red, white, and blue.
Each rifle's crack, and the bugle’s call, Marking valor that won't fade or fall.
When duty calls, and the morning breaks slow, We line up steady where the cold winds blow.
In starched white gloves, the silence hums deep, A moment held tight where the memories keep.
A folded flag rests in seasoned hands, Bearing stories whispered across the lands.
A family watches, eyes soft and wide, We stand for the living and those who died.
Every step is a promise, every breath a vow, From fields far flung to the home's humble brow.
Silent words hang thicker than the air, We speak with our presence, showing we care.
Post 318 Honor Guard, strong and true, Walking steady for the red, white, and blue.
Each rifle's crack, and the bugle’s call, Marking valor that won't fade or fall.
With every salute, a story told, Of heroes brave and hearts of gold.
Post 318 in the morning light, Holding honor just right.
From Normandy's beaches to deserts wide, Through jungle shadows and ocean tide,
Eyes that face storms behind steel and creed, Holding hope tight when hopes seem to bleed.
Some return to arms open wide, Some rest where the wildflowers hide,
Their names etched deep in worn gravestones, The courage in prints our own.
Every stitch seems in the fabric of time, Each life a verse in this solemn rhyme,
We carry their weight in the beat of our drum, Their story alive, never undone.
Post 318 Honor Guard, strong and true, Walking steady for the red, white, and blue.
Each rifle's crack, and the bugle’s call, Marking valor that won't fade or fall.
With every salute, a story told, Of heroes brave and hearts of gold.
Post 318 in the morning light, Holding honor just right.
When taps fall soft on the still cool air, Heaven leans close to hear their prayer.
Each name a thread in the silent weave, A song of those who gave all they'd leave.
Tears like rain, soft and slow, Speak the thanks we often don't show.
The light they carry still burns bright, Guiding us through the darkest night.
Post 318 Honor Guard, strong and true, Walking steady for the red, white, and blue.
Each rifle's crack, and the bugle’s call, Marking valor that won't fade or fall.
With every salute, a story told, Of heroes brave and hearts of gold.
Post 318 in the morning light, Holding honor just right.
One nation beneath the endless sky, One flag in the breeze, a whispered sigh.
One last salute, hearts aligned again, Until we meet where memories remain.
