Passchendaele

by | Jun 28, 2008 | Poetry | 0 comments

STORM CLOUDS BLOWING IN THE WIND.
O’ER THE RIDGE, ABOVE THE PLAIN.
AS THEY MARCHED THROUGH THE MENIN GATE.
THROUGH MUD, TO PASSCHENDAELE.

THROUGH CRATERS, BODIES, AND BLOOD.
THEY WADED THROUGH THE FIELDS OF MUD.
FROM THE TRENCHES, SAW TYNECOT.
THIS PLACE FOR THEM, IS BEST FORGOT.

CHORUS

AS THE SHELLS BROKE THE SILENCE,
AND THE WIND, AND RAIN, THEY LASHED THE TREES.
OFF THEY WENT, TO FIGHT WITH THEIR MATES.
ON NO MANS LAND, FOR LIBERTY.

WAITING FOR THE WHISTLE TO BLOW.
WITH BULLETS FLYING, TO AND FRO.
HEARING THE CRIES, OF MEN, THEY KNOW.
OVER THE TOP, THEIR TURN TO GO.

WHERE GRASS WON’T GROW, OR BIRDS SING.
AND MUD, JUST COVERS EVERYTHING.
NO CHOICE, TO LIVE OR DIE.
NOT EVEN TIME TO SAY GOODBYE.

CHORUS

WILL THINGS CHANGE ANY BY THE SPRING.
STILL IN THE MUD, WHERE HEROES BEEN.
NOW LYING DEAD, ON NO MANS LAND.
BRAVELY THEY FOUGHT, TO THEIR LAST STAND.

THROUGH GAS, AND CRATERS, CAN’T SEE.
HOW THEY, THOUGHT THINGS, WERE MEANT TO BE.
FOR SOME NOW, A NAME ON STONE.
FOR MANY, THE PLACE THEY FELL, UNKNOWN.

CHORUS

PEACE IS PRECIOUS, KEEP IT DEAR.
FOR OUR FREEDOM, THEY FOUGHT HERE.
THEY KNEW THE SACRIFICE WAS GREAT.
WHEN THEY MARCHED THROUGH, THE MENIN GATE.

MANY NAMES ENGRAVED ON WHITE STONE.
IN PLACES, FAR AWAY, FROM HOME.
AT THE GOING DOWN OF THE SUN.
MEMORIES OF THEM, WILL STILL LIVE ON.

CHORUS X 2

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