The Fallen Solders
When I was laid in field of clay
No flowers above my head did lay
Nor marble headstone placed with care
With words of love chiselled there
No words of sorrow were spoken in pain
Tears of regret did not silken handkerchief stain
No volley of rifles to the sky
No last post lullaby
So when you ask
Were does he lay
This fallen soldier
Of yesterday
I tell you true
And
With pride
I lay with others
Side by side
In every corner
Of
A foreign land
You will find us there
Brother’s band
Copyright © Stephen Morrow | Year Posted 2011
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