At the eleventh hour we stop and remember, we stand in silence for a minute. Then life (and death) goes on.

Rolling Fields Of Red.

Today is the day the Great War ended,
It’s been one hundred years to the day,
On the bloody fields a peace descended,
Under those fields thousands molder away.

The world was back at war twenty years later,
More fathers and sons gone to eternal rest
One world war’s toll was bad, Two was greater,
One losing leader could not accept second best.

The most evolved on Gods earth are still learning,
Brave soldiers still march into fading memory,  
In fields the whole world over are old soldiers turning
At the thought of honour, glory and empty victory?

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