The Glorious Death

Truce has been called on war

Arms laid to the floor

Countless men speak of hell

Tyrants, what they saw

Close to death the men seem to say

These were the days of old

We arc the glorious dead

What is left for the ex patriot

What is left but resentment?

Death all too real

Countless men speak of hell

Of tyrants, what they saw

Close to death the men seem to cry

I'll at rest behind those eyes

What this person has seen

What his life has been

Changed from this man into machine

Returned home to find life insignificant