remember with me
the day that brother fought brother,
the bodies piled high
behind the false security of the stone divisions
drawn through the heartland.
But when the fighting ceased,
all that remained
was a flag on the grave
of every brother slaughtered in the name of unity.
recall with me
the day that we united
in hopes of saving our friends from certain doom.
And though the world was at their aid
to the greatest evil the world has known.
But the tides turned
and the end was reached.
Now all that remains
is a flag on the grave of every friend
slain in the name of world peace.
recapture with me
the day that we fought for our country
but fought in vain.
Time and time again we tried,
be it foul or fair,
but to no avail.
We prayed for our children
“please come home alive”,
all that remains
is a flag on the grave of every son
turn your eyes from the horrors of the past,
look upon the sweet memories of our brothers,
Memories of the days
long before the magnetic appeal of falsely promised heroism
that tore us apart.
The days in which we knew,
despite whatever hardship that might rear it’s ugly head and stumble upon us
from the farthest reaches of the unknown,
these men died for the betterment of the world,
let not the flags on the graves remind you of your lost loved ones,
but rather the sacrifices they made
always for peace.