I remember a fact, signed in a pact,
In which all the world said
“Time to pack and don’t come back
Until they are all dead.”
A story of war, one we’ve heard before,
Where we believed we were right.
But the vitality in the reality,
Saw nothing more than a bloody night.
For what we lost, the toll it cost,
Weighted more than the metals,
The ones we won, when all was done,
Revealed after the dust settles.
Hidden in the field, what victory concealed,
Was not victory but instead,
The remains of attack, those who didn’t come back,
Because they were all dead.
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