The streets
Are not lined
No emotion or grief
The clocktower
Strikes
A noisy thief.
The hearse passes
Wheels glide by
Farewell to a hero
A final goodbye
People in life
The moment decries
Unaware of his record
Now time it lies.
In a crematorium
Three candles lit
The way he wanted
Simply no fuss
Two simple mourners
Were they bought or sold
The old soldier travels
A comrade in soul.