March

Could there be a world for me
beyond the rainbow's arch?
Could there be a life for me
beyond the soldier's march?
The men who fell, I knew them well;
I've walked where they have lain.
Faces past; I saw them last,
saw as they were slain.

Gone is youth, replaced by truth;
the terrors of this Earth.
Innocence is no defence;
this is no time for mirth.
And so I march toward the arch,
toward the golden glow.
When this life ends, perhaps my friends
will take me in their tow.

Will you, my friend, be at the end?
Perhaps I'll never know.

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