Poems ✍️

Along the fields of endless green,
Where only ghosts of war are seen,
The silence hums, the shadows play,
It’s there we bow this solemn day.

They marched for hope, for those unborn,
Through nights of pain, through hearts so torn.
They dreamed of peace beyond the fight,
And traded darkness for our light.

So let the bugle softly blow,
Let every heart remember so:
Their gift was great, their duty done,
Their rest — beneath the setting sun.