Stained of red,
Blood of them,
Secrets,
Lay upon their stem.

Stained of red,
Lost souls roam,
Some merciless hearts,
Made of stone.

Stained of red,
A leaf is grown,
Though there is no way,
To take back what as shown.

Stained of red,
A protection, a shield,
They hide what was done,
Something one man could not wield.

Stained of red,
In the fields they cover,
Men all lay,
A son, uncle and brother.

Stained of red,
They hide the war,
They now bring peace,
They are the core.

Stained of red,
These poppies stand,
In Flanders fields,
Hand in hand.