The Dead the Brave the True

Their faces he’ll no longer see Their lives were lived then gone Players in the game of death The brave, the dead, the pawns How many mothers cry these days? How many still aren’t the same Two armies fighting each other In this massive death filled game? Tracers flying in and out Eyes searching with all their might Boys fighting for all they were worth These combatants in a prize fight The silence of the dawn has come And bodies are all they see Friends now gone to their graves In this land with no boundaries Now his time has come to leave As he boards his homeward flight He salutes his last salute to those Who came not back from this fight His mind goes back to yester years Every now and again these days And death comes visiting in his dreams Of those rice fields and killing ways He sees those eyes, he hears those cries But there’s nothing he can do The wall of names reach out to him The dead, the brave, the true