Many a salient lie quiet, beneath the grey sky,
winter winds blow cold, through the ruins.
Deep within the earth, virgin blood flows,
like poppies the flower of manhood, lie crushed.
Beneath the falling snow, the embittered scars of man.
Silence echo across fields, that now lay torn,
no trees, for the wind to whisper it’s grief to.
Skeletons lie within battered redoubts, defending
shattered bones lie on the battlefields, attacking.
Beneath the falling snow, the stark reality of death.
Distant foe came, with the call to arms,
past battles forgotten, united to the colours.
Gathered in trench as friend, gathered as one,
many tongues were spoken, now words lay silent.
Beneath the falling snow, friend and foe together lie.
Winters wind blow deep, within memories of minds
men bowed, to the calling winds of time.
Beaten by attrition, crippled by schemes
the fallen remembered by name, and by the number.
Beneath the falling snow, generals together stand erect…