Anon-Poetry-Hills

Upon the hill we died
They did not raise a grave
For flags our blood had dyed
The land we could not save

Dead we are now brothers
Who come to rest as bones
Sharing not a mother
But grave unmarked by stones

Though we are now rotten
And you now live at ease
War is not forgotten
So end will come to peace

Upon the hill you die
We will not raise a grave
For flags your blood will dye
The land you will not save