World War 1
The hollow husk of Europe
Emptied out and dry
Smolders in the quiet dark
From fire that won’t die
These bombed out broken cities
Are cradles for the dead
Broken dreams, the cobblestones
That pave the way ahead
Ghosts wander dusty streets
Searching, searching on
They weep for everybody lost
For every body gone
Now poppies sown from death
Are blooming in the mud
Tears water all the flowers
That live off soldiers’ blood
