How many there lay scattered dead?
Brave men and boys unmoving lay;
Too far they are from sheltered bed,
A game that kings for glory play.

The only truth of war is this:
That many die and are lain to rest
Whilst parted from their lovers kiss,
Or father's eye and mother's caress.

Whilst tales of courage glory bold;
Amongst so many men are told.
Laments of those that will not age;
Will scarcely ever grace the page.

When over tattered standards, cold winds blow
Lone poet to the sky declaims:
"Where did all the brave men go"
The answer at his feet is lain;
Cold stone inscribed with many names.