To think a mans fate is decided
not by the battle won or lost
but by the heart alone, is more
than one can bare. Atone we will,
but nothing can mend the deep hole,
the sudden blow, the empty chair,
the memories from smiling faces—
the stories of his wilder days,
before his parts started to give,
and now, all that is left is his
and his alone to give once more,
and he must face the coming storm
with his wife, his friends, and his kids to cheer
him on and back into their arms.
But that was then and this is now.
Today, even the gods of Rapa Nui
might succumb to such unwelcome
overwhelming power and force
as conquistadors landing in boats—
bent on pillaging the moorings
and invading the peaceful shores.
These aliens with wicked guns,
artillery to line the veins
with the platelets of the dying
and living blood defending his love;
to think a mans fate is decided—
before the battle’s even begun,
but still the heart beats it’s thump
and a Moi stands as hope’s guard
against the coming force of knight
and crown against the thunderous thump—
refusing to give, refusing to take
an inch to the executioners scythe.
Amid the whir and clank of an E.R.
there are terms tossed around,
so that even the healthy become lost
in the beeps and strange noise’s keel
that gathers men like sirens calls
marching us toward the coast as fallen,
beloved to the one that’s taken
aboard the enemy ship as captive.
There is not a moment to gather thoughts,
the enemy is on the coast—
With their superior ships and weaponry,
they take by force our very souls
and shatter them against the rocky gods.
Defeated as never before
the Moi walk and lower their heads,
and beg, but conquistadors are aliens.
For him this wasn’t supposed to be
an evening of gathering folks,
For him it was the last day as himself,
and in the battle waged, he fought
until there was nothing to give but love.
Mike died a hero’s death among men
and family, his friends, and his beloved kids.
It was an honor to know him!