A Gun Caked With Blood

A Tribute To Tyrone Woods

© 2013 Linda McKinney All Rights Reserved

Through the mortar fire's bursts, and the crowd's blood-thirst
Through the danger waiting there, and the smoke-filled air
Through the terror of the known fact of being left alone
To fight for his life and others, he fought until death
took him to his brothers.

He'd promised her he'd come back home, raise their child, ne'er again roam,
And kissed her tenderly "Goodbye", he'd said, not knowing for eternity.
Yet he went, and stood his ground, hoped his country would be around
Sooner than later, and signaled he, "There's the danger" with laser light
lit it like a tree.

They called for help, for anything, to help them through this, future bring
And, fighting tooth and nail, through the bullets' hail
They waited, called, and hoped and called again, not knowing if or when
The help would come, the Brass would see, it wasn't just him,
'twas "We".

Returning home he brought salutes, a flag-draped coffin's due
called a "Hero" left alone, a wife, a child, his last hours ne'er to be known
America's gratitude words can't express, because words aren't its fullness
But thank we he, Tyrone Woods, for all he did in trying --
he did good.

A flag-draped coffin, a hero's tome, isn't enough for those at home
Who wanted more than flag's decor, and empty pillow behind bedroom's door
A broken heart -- not one, but more -- and all because you're filled with honor
And obeyed your calling, obeyed your GOD, and with three others
we mourn your falling.

"A gun caked with blood": fitting epitaph for one upon whose heart was graphed
The righteousness of America's truth, and to her you gave your youth
And when America failed you, you stood tall, and answered e'en then the call
Against the enemy's bullet-flood, you stood your ground until
a gun caked with your blood.

GOD bless the loved ones of the Benghazi Four.

(NOTE: Based upon a quote from the Washington Times)