Reason of the Poppy

The sounds of the menacing gun,
A nightmare that's begun,
The devil's work in process,
Once sweet grass, now a bloody mess.

A life lost,
That's the cost,
To be there,
You wouldn't dare.

Pain and suffer,
The cries of many mothers,
Our precious loved ones,
The damage is done.

Why must we fight?
For our country's delight?
Once a life, now is dead,
As they rest in their bloody bed.

We fight with pride,
Against the other side,
In the fields of poppies, we die,
For our country we gave our life.