So young and full of promise they all were.
It’s they who ought to be here. Unjust.
They walked this troubled earth, a whirlwind blur.
And times were changed with just one powerful gust.
Some clashed with guns, still others razed with words.
Inspired by their gods to fight their wars,
They followed leaders like migrating birds
To their deaths. Now ghosts alive as vapours
Dance within the memories of their mothers.
Their bodies dwell as dust under the dirt,
Dark and loamy soil ever smothers.
And whitest lilies lie atop, inert.
And Brothers will enshrine the young with love
Until Below becomes the world above.

July 2017