The battlefields long ago, <br />Bore the bodies of many men. <br />They held their barrels high. <br />The light glinted off the cruel bayonets. <br />Their metal bullets, merciless predators waiting to be unleashed <br />And while the many shells and bullets swarmed the battlefield <br />Which pierced and shattered the bodies of the soldiers <br />And the hearts of their loved ones, <br />They put their fear aside and fought <br />No time to fear or to cry <br />Only time to serve and honour <br />Life and death was merged into one. <br />A sea of crimson stained the land. <br />Now the fields are still crimson <br />Not with blood but poppies <br />It is here that the fallen lie <br />Dead and asleep <br />Their duty had been served <br />And now they sleep forever under their crimson blankets. <br />No more tears <br />No more sorrow <br />No more guns <br />Just everlasting peace. <br />When the sun retires his bright watchful eye <br />The moon and stars watch over their graves bathing them in angelic light <br />And as the poppies mournfully sway, <br />They whisper softly, with the voices of many men: <br />“Remember us, remember our deeds <br />Let them not be forgotten <br />Forever may we be in your hearts <br />We breathed our last breaths <br />And said our last goodbyes <br />And gave our lives for our country <br />Now we sleep in fields of crimson.” <br />So here lies Hercules, <br />Here lies Odysseus, <br />Here lies Achilles, <br />Here lie heroes, <br />Unknown soldiers, <br />In the fields of crimson.<br /><br />Natasha Kirke<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fields-of-crimson/
