The enemy docked at our shores;
Drums and horns roared,
And we knew what that meant—
Death.
We were herded into carriages,
With but consent only on paper,
We were shipped to slaughter.
We had to go;
Failure to obey was worse than death.
Across the fields, young men like us waited.
We held nothing against them,
Yet we carved each other
Just as we were commanded.
After the bloodshed,
Our superiors—who knew each other well—
Signed papers called peace.
And by the stroke of a pen,
Our sacrifice was erased.
Dec 31, 2025
Dec 31, 2025 at 2:44 AM UTC
The enemy docked at our shores;
Drums and horns roared,
And we knew what that meant—
Death.
We were herded into carriages,
With but consent only on paper,
We were shipped to slaughter.
We had to go;
Failure to obey was worse than death.
Across the fields, young men like us waited.
We held nothing against them,
Yet we carved each other
Just as we were commanded.
After the bloodshed,
Our superiors—who knew each other well—
Signed papers called peace.
And by the stroke of a pen,
Our sacrifice was erased.
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