Broken bodies litter the ground,

Scattered ghosts whisper without a sound.

The call to arms is loud and clear,

Sounding so pointless and empty; no one is near.


The young ladies ran far away from that day,

The weeping mothers told them to go off and play.

The sons are spent, and are sleeping so sound,

When the final charge happens,

It will happen without a sound.


And these men,

Will they be lose in combat until the end of the world?

Or will someone come save them?

Come and save the boy's lonely souls?