Young men not much older than
the ones who stayed behind
Listen to the music
Upon a field the cries for peace,
and lay dying in the battle,
their brothers soon they’ll meet
The midnight hour is looming large
the time has come and past
red warm streets that flow as rivers,
where brave men have born their task
Smoldering in the ashes
placed in wooden rows
silenced by the symphony
their worth they soon shall know.
Where once was said, “Cry havoc,
and let slip the dogs of war”,
Red rivers chase the souls of men
Their lives were meant for more
© Raymond t. Carter 2003
