Passing the albacore of time,
Where events are not witnessed.
Scars of battles fought linger,
But no recollection of event.
Like a stream of running water,
Seems endless at its sight.
Yet it has a beginning source,
That is filled with its might.
Let the events of battle lie
Amongst the dead of the fray.
Too painful to recount in memory,
What took place on that bloody day.
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Sandie