Here their name is history
their pasts are bright red battle scars
forged in stone and erected as a monuments.
Hymns of never forget float from their lips
quick off their tongues, quicker than hello,
because forgetting is worse than goodbye for now
forgetting is goodbye forever.
Those days the sky bled black into the sea,
a sea that crashed with mighty metal waves
that bore the enemy onto shore.
Here the only breeze is whispered myth
carried down from the hills over bombed-out houses
trembling in the ears of the people
who will never say goodbye.
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