so, mon dieu


so mon dieu

to this field we come

foes at last

our knives are whetted

our hatchets are honed

our spirits strong

to settle one more time

to prove one more time

that strength is found

only in grit, spit, and muscle

we shared our bread

we spoke of peace

it was a good day

one to cherish

one to tell our children

and hope they remember

caught as they can be in


our bloods will mix

recorded in the earth

for as long as it shall live

and as it must be

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