PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The blood of men flows ever out

As raging rivers to the sea

There seems to be an endless source

From long lost memory

The young men come to volunteer

To shed their blood once more

They've heard the call to bleed again

Upon some distant shore

Why is the call to die so strong

That men will heed the call

Or do they think they're not the ones

Who'll take the final fall

It's always someone else who dies

Not we who volunteer

We think we'll never be the one

And laugh to hide our fear

But deep within our inner souls

We know we may be wrong

That death may be around the turn

Our life may not be long

But never mind we heard the call

We line up in our ranks

And a grateful nation will be there

To give us all their thanks

They'll build for us a monument

Young boys will come to stare

And they will be the next to go

To shed their blood somewhere