Who For Our Democracy Died

They claim it legitimate They claim it fact But the tide has turned There’ll be no turning back The lines of life die under bitter, sharp dust For here and now the do is must The time we had sleeps in deep fond memory The sunshine on grass, on mountain, on river, on tree. Clear now is not guidance from the fading light. Through squinting eyes we must never lose sight. Sacrifice echoes through the mists of time. Their deeds of honour we remember and we salute with pride But the seeds they did sow are now abandoned, now ash under darker skies How can we stand in the presence of ghosts who for our democracy died? Will we ever see the horizon glow in the colours of peace when human hearts overthrow for selfish needs? Do we sit or stand on the frozen ground? Do we laugh or cry for dreams lost in the shifting sands? Do we eat and drink ignoring history scream in the breaking winds? Do we record this chapter of where cold forces broke through our walls? Do we write to history our memory, our justification, our reasoning for standing in fear and watching democracy fall?