Chapter IX: Bodies, Blood and Flowers

Bodies, Blood and Flowers,
Upon the ground,
They're scattered round,
Those Bodies, Blood and Flowers.

Bodies

Bodies, they die for their country,
They die in vain.
Rusted guns and lost battles,
Are their only medal's.

They lay upon the ground they lost,
They sinned for their country,
They pray now,
Praying for forgiveness.

Their blood, making its mark in the ground.

Blood

Blood, cold, red, spilled.
It seeps into the ground,
Allowing flower's to grow,
The bodies have been moved,
A thousand years later,
Tell me, Sgt. John Doe,
Will you be remembered?

Flowers

Flowers grow from soldier's blood,
Flowers of red, flowers of blue,
Flowers of different hue,
Flowers that colour the ancient sky.

The sky that has watched,
The battle from afar,
People slain,
People who watch now, from their place in the sky.

The flowers sway in the gentle breeze,
Juxtaposed against the distant time,
A time when men fought for crown and country,
A crown thirsting power.

Bodies, Blood and Flowers,
Upon the ground,
They're scattered round,
Those Bodies, Blood and Flowers.

The End

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