THE EBBING TIDE
The blood that flowed, on the Western Front, has long since ebbed its’ tide
The dust of those who bravely fell, now part of our nation’s pride
Sixty thousand Australian souls, cut down in their prime
Frozen in eternity, by a poet’s rhyme
Ringer, clerk or banker, soldiers with one cause
Standing against tyranny, in the war to end all wars
When the bells of peace rang out, if they only knew
As great a threat would soon descend, the scourge of Spanish Flu
Patriotism the banner, to blindly march behind
For glory of an empire, the tragic threads that bind
Marching into battle, when the chips were down
The deadly fee to be paid, for a king or kaiser’s crown
The guns may now lie silent, where poppies grow in peace
Will mankind ever learn? Will hatred ever cease ?
For there will still be future wars, politicians will announce
And youth will leave our shores again, for lands they can’t pronounce
Ours is not to wonder, over what we cannot change
The brutal facts of history, we cannot rearrange
Just one minute’s silence, hardly a reward
A generation sacrificed, for reasons clearly flawed
By Tomas ‘Paddy’ Hamilton
22 October 2020
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