Red poppies blowing in the wind,
across fields in far off land..
White markers all in rows, straightly standing,
among emerald lawns, and cobbled paths..
Again, once more they stand, shoulder to shoulder,
hand to hand, defending all shores of man..
Bitter cold, rain wind nor snow, summer heat,
can their bodies feel, from beneath, they rest..
Called to go and serve, do there best,
duty done, long ago, time is done..
To weep for all eternity would take,
honor their memory, put to rest our fears..
To cry for all would drain mind and soul,
pray on bent knee, if you will..
Safely now they lie, they have earned the rest,
so for them cry only Dry Tears..