Blood-stained poppies

Blood-stained poppies mark the day that human sacrifice did harden the skins of the less murderous mass for such a brutal aghast affair, how the God all mighty would formidable bear witness to grief beyond repair Out into the fields, neither would yield-with bullets they would tear but what would a stealthy, shrewd general care if many died on duty which left a nation dumbfounded by the levity and gravity of a war that was deemed to be of grandness, valiant soldiers of fallacious valour mercilessly gunned down and with no gratification, them forsaken, while the gutless general is less sanctimonious, pious in his approach for the fighting did persist, until finally that last shot, at last serenity in the calamitous storm, birdsong instead of less fanciful peaceful flight, that night the serendipitous surviving soldier did sleep so tight, a nation did succumb to pitiful sorrow and pain-so the poppies do denote blood-stain and brutal, grim, gutless gain