A soft, imploring cry
peels from far and wide
from the silted lives of
mercenaries and conscripts,
the coagulated blood of still lifes
leached from stented veins
and strained for national pride

A quiet, solemn echo
bounces off re-sodded hills
and re-capped mountains
of voices muted in their prime
so that indentured revelers
might joyfully trumpet
an unrequited melody
of garnished freedom
and varnished liberty

The curdling wind plays taps
to the itinerant bones
on reefs and ocean bottoms
now hollowed by corrosive waves
of land-faring vagabonds who
continuously pare their calcified genes

Bottled tears that will never drain
remain untapped on distant shores
as their pilfering descendants
salt the museums and memorials
with their gratuitous patronage