In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
      In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
      In Flanders fields.

In Flanders fields the poppies grow,
We've left our soldiers, row by row
Far and away, on distant lands
Where they fought bravely
And made their stands. 

For king, country and the cross,
Paid with lives, but what of the cost.
We cannot erase what we have done
War... there are only losers, winners none. 

If we could all but learn from the past,
Then surely THAT war would have been the last.
Speaking for the ones that had to go,
Though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.