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Flanders Fields
Through Flanders fields old ghosts cry and weep
Through the petals of blood red poppies
Even the soaring birds mute their mournful cry
In deference to souls sacrificed in vain
The end of all wars was a prize worth dying for
Those that lie here never knew the truth
Blood that spewed from their shattered bodies
Never quenched the flames of awful war
Now they wave to a world that has forgotten them
From a bright red carpet in Sanctuary wood
Singing unheard songs of never reachable peace
In tongues varied but understandable to all
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