The Afghan Thirteen by RL Brown The pulse is weak, life's vanishing vapor, Thanatos grins when breathing ceased. Death's grim triumph- of the Afghan thirteen, fallen, betrayed, left behind. A country's demise by the hands of a few won't be forgotten. America's heart bleeds. Hope hurts and hope heals, shattering the grip of hate- past and present repeat. (1776)
The Afghan Thirteen by RL Brown
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