Do We Take Paul Ravere's Heroic Act for Granted?

Through the dark and stormy night,
came a horse and rider in flight.
His coat was drenched, his face was pale,
his horse looked like it was about to fail.
Yet he still managed to light a single flame.
Only one flame and then a BANG!

First there was silence, then a scream,
for people knew what this would mean.
With hero down, and only one light lit,
the Yankees were venerable to any hit.
There would be no back-up, they couldn’t be saved.
The red-coats would get the blood that they craved.

The women ran, the children cried,
everyone hid inside.
Shutters were closed, muskets were drawn,
the first of the footsteps were heard just before dawn.
Through the mist and the fog, horses were heard.
No one made a sound, no one even stirred.

As the British rode into Concord, swords in hand,
people knew they would have to fend for their land.
A shot was fired, and then another.
First from one side and then the other.
Wives, daughters, mothers and sons,
could only sit and hope, and pray for their loved ones.

Everyone knew the outcome of that day.
It was a victory, a triumph, or so they would say.
The blood-bath of the English and rebels left no one alive.
Though the rebels surrendered, no one survived.
They were all shot down in the end.
“An act of God,” said the king “their wounds will mend.”

Thousands of people died, and many more to come.
Though the rebels still fought, they never really won.
Our founding fathers fought and feuded,
But in the end they were executed.
England took over, security was raised,
for the king feared another rebellious age.

Because of one shot, on one faithful night,
America lost a terrible fight.
Blood was shed, the innocent were convicted.
America was taken, much pain was conflicted
So of the war, you then hear,
You will remember Paul Revere.