Sometimes they come Sometimes the gloom prevails Like the rainy streets Of a soldier’s beckoning call Whilst the future’s wondered In the midst of an Autumn fall. The mind wanders for the reason. The answer must be in someone’s head As they walk along the lonely path Lined with trees, starved and dead. The answer doth not appear Our protests are for nothing. The only sounds that can be heard Are the old-men vultures singing; "Our cause is just – we must prevail".
The carriage comes to take our sons To court Europe’s long-lost daughter Her name is war. Her history long. Her assets flashed, to help hide the slaughter.
In times after this, When the fields have returned to bloom, Their sorrows sympathised, their glories remembered We will feel remorse, but will this stop the gloom? by Shred | |||
