Shots rung out that winter night.
People fled from sound and sight.
For all had hear cries of the damned,
People whose live had been all a sham.
Soldiers were shot and left puddles of blood.
They fell on their faces in cold, dark mud.
A window shattered on that night of violence.
A child screamed and then there was silence.
Shattered glass fell like rain
On soldiers who died in vain.
A voice cried for all to hear,
"Do you fools not feel fear?
The chill that creeps and steals your life?
When all you've known was naught but strife?
Do you think your deaths will bring us peace?
That because of you all firing will cease?
Fools! You will die and not one will care
How you gave your lives for Vanity Fair."
But not a soul heeded this warning
And all were dead by the morning.
A door opened and a child crept out.
She was proof of the voice's doubt.
Now she was all that was left
Of a town had done no theft.
And all because of a war
That no one recalled was for.
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