IC POEM "The Unsung Dead"

[Marcus Kobra]

On swards of red grass didst thou lie.
Beneath Yew tree and noon day sun.
War was carried off by winter's air.
Replaced with sounds of moving earth and prayer.

Now beneath green swards doth thou lie.
Were Yew trees grow and moon doth shine.
Wind now whispers each your names:
Riker, Gogord, Hamil, Hellas, Macoord,
Lithan, Smith, Mills, and Valca.

Your names it is that we remember here.
We men and women, your family-in-arms.
We lift our mugs not swords to you.
Honour and Courage in all you do.