Father,
The uncle in whose hands you left us
Is cannibalizing us
He has turned us into animals
Led us to a foreign land
For his enemies to slaughter
And while we scream so painfully
You and mother squabble too loudly
To hear us crying
We are the ones that are dying.
Here, lying by this pool of blood
My blood, your blood
Spilled on this foreign land
By this blood I swear;
If you do not seek redress for me
Because uncle is family
By my warm dying blood
I curse you mother
I curse you father
I curse you.
Death has not won…May the souls of the Fallen Heroes rest in peace
In the thicket, a soldier cries
In the copse
Lie many corpses
Too many dead soldiers
The enemy killed them like poachers
Like a knight
He came in the dead of the night
Who will come to their rescue
He remembers their last barbecue
The smile of his daughter
Happy family filled the air with laughter
His people he so much misses
The children and the missus
His mind wanders
And he wonders
Who will take care of his family
And give his children a homily
Commander said not yet time to get out
Today he lies in the bush bleeding out
He remembers the day he passed out
His patriotism the enemy’s bullet will not knock out