Postmortem thoughts raced in his head
The wet-blanketed machinery post war over-head
Tassels in the stream wave lengthened and abated
Left under wrought iron, muted and latent  

Grave-full the wondering over hills
Smoke ridden skies play fiddles for thrills
Marked a deserter a coward to-be
Stave joins the uniform woe is the helmet free

Consumption as the assault forum
Malaria under tent field wounds
Strategically sound mortals woven and bound
Orders on muskets, send out the hounds!

Bought for the trade ore a plantation plow
Burned to rubble soot and sow
Family mantle abandon its urn
No food for the season now is their turn