Walk the Ground

I walk the ground where we used to tread and the roses bloomed in spring; I walk the ground where the skies rained down and the Lord of Death was king. I walk the ground where the ashes swirled and the echoes told of war; I walk the ground where the seeds were cast and the grass would grow no more. I walk the ground with rheumatic limbs as the ages stripped me bare; I walk the ground between land and sea with the bunkers buried there. I walk the ground where they buried you in that dreadful month of June, I walk the ground where your stone is set and I say I will see you soon.