Colin F. Jones


What we cannot control we cannot retain.
The ink that we spill leaves a permanent stain
And all the dead soldiers, live soldiers have slain
Will never march boldly to fight battles again.
And the horses, and donkeys and camels galore,
Slaughtered for greed in the futility of war,
Can never be used for what they were used for,
As they struggled from ships to assail the shore.
We can never bring back those bold warriors lost,
Nor measure in thoughts, the tumultuous costs;
Nor imagine the chaos of the battlefields crossed,
Nor the significance of names on marble embossed.
We can only go forward seeking the peace…
That from the horror of war their spirits are released.