The blood we mourn,
lies in a country torn.
It stains the streets and sand,
it covers a comrades hand.
Blood fills the minds and souls,
it burns the hearts of families now cold.
A son and daughter,
go on without a father.
A mom and dad,
lose a woman they feel they just had.
Blood covers the ground of a cemetary,
in a small country town.
Blood fills the sounds,
of silent tears falling to the ground.
The church bells and rifles ring aloud,
to the loss of family and friends,
never more proud.
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