"Oh, no!" I cried, As I read the words on the monument For the War dead. They play the Last Post Every evening at the Menem Gate, But when shall they play The last Last Post? I gazed at graves Of sons, husbands, lovers: All men stripped of life In their very prime. I was fraught with anger At the folly of war And the foolishness of man Who, for power, Or for pride, Sent others to suffer And to die. To die that some may boast Of a "great and glorious" Victory. But it is vistory over war For which they fought, A victory of life over death, Of goodness over greed. Of freedom over fear, Of love over hate. For such a victory Let us make sure That they will not have died in vain.   Submitted By: NULL