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FLANDERS LAMENTED

In NAM we watched rare shrapnel bloom
no fields of poppies marked our doom.
So trusting we marched forth to save
yielding grief’s flowers at every grave.
Those alive cannot console friends who lay
in forlorn peace through out each day.
The only answer for each to die,
far from Flanders Fields do I lie.

The lighted torch in star strewn skies
no more the beacon to guide our eyes;
we know now how truth is spurned
the lessons of war are never learned;
the count of bodies continues its gain
war by war inflicting its pain.
Why disturb from sleep those who fell,
and dare to say “for all is well.”

We, the survivors, the unburied dead
impatiently wait without dread.
The final defeat will yet be faced,
for us there is no need of haste,
forgotten in the grace of man
remembered in God’s greater plan;
the only answer for each implied,
far from Flanders Fields will I lie.

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