The loss of lives,
A pity state.
A turning stone,
A brand new plate.
We say goodbye,
We turn our heads.
We pray at night,
In our soft beds.
The nightmares swirl,
The memories coil.
Sweet and dainty,
In our minds they toil.
Never to forget,
Never to remember.
Always to cherish,
The months drag till December.
The loss of lives,
A pity state.
But you'll live on,
Until its your plate...
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