A field where somewhere poppies grow
Between the little grassy rows
This is the mark of where we fight
Above the singing birds take flight
Unheard beneath, the gunshot blow.
A soldier's heart, no friend nor foe
Though not names, but pain we know
A cry we hear, and now it starts
The fight till death of a soldier's heart,
And we'll see Life's sunset orange glow.
A death, with grace, short days ago
We lived and loved for all we know
And with sobs and tears, hear we lie
Where another war comes strolling by
And lets the withered poppies grow.
We rest here longer than you know,
While holding onto war what all we throw
We clutch this sand of forever's peace
Which with war is out of reach,
So let not those bloodstained poppies grow
And love and live as much as so.