Bent and broken, we march through the mud,
Masked faces of soldiers, earth’s blood.
We headed the front with tired steps led,
In the shadow of despair where strong men bled.
The artillery shells whizzed, a lethal choir,
Eyes blazing like fire, hearts gripped in fright.
Each breath was a gasp and step in a mire,
In trenches of sorrows where dreams are drowned.
A clear cry rings through the haze of death,
Comrade falls under fate’s very breath
Onward we stagger trembling in fear
In haunted nights when shadows leer.
His silent plea is his lifeless shape
His unseeing eyes that watched death’s tape
We carry him covered by filth and grit
Through all hell breaks loose as souls split.
War’s grandeur far off lies, it is true
Where old men tell stories for who live anew;
Beneath Heaven’s blue sky, glory spun from honor doth brew;
It resounds through fields soaked with blood as echoes accrue.
All young people should learn this simple truth,
Heroic deeds exact their own price from youth,
Not medals or soldier jokes though fingers point to me,
But silent graves which hold those who died for us.