. Rain falls shooting the grounds. In walks avoiding the schrapnel pits Bleeding, over spilling, as they swell Memories play to the mute bitterness Of far cold, how we went wrong, bled At arms, burned within salted wound Of dishonest rush, assault of friendly Fires as die smouldered out of smoke, Taint of grace flew into a cauldron dark A cross of red was only suture to veins Ripped in the onslaughts and love was Our only casualty. We were lost, never To reach the shining wins of conquered Spoils, never to bed with timeless downs Of lovers on leave, we now just soldier on, To walk with rains, in campaign of sorrows.