Now we rest our heads in bloody hands,
For friends we have lost as grains of sand,
Sit weary on the burdened soul,
That so many die for their country’s goal,
To help cleanse this earth of tyrant’s ill,
That innocent wanders free at will.
Death then did close their once youthful eyes
As it laid them down with mortal cries,
In fields somewhere in far foreign land
And then those, on some blood stained sand
Yet many more in dark jungles green,
Deprived of life by those unseen.
Tenacious they fought this evil tide,
Now on great stones their names inscribed,
For they have gone from this mortal coil,
With its wasteful wrath and timeless toil,
In their graves, they rest now side by side,
Though sad, we shall speak their names with pride…
[For we shall always remember them!]