• Friend, I see your eyes,
    Full of regret and pain;
    ‘Tis the scar of war,
    A ruler’s game of chess;

    Your ‘form is stained with death,
    Mine with your own as well,
    It shows the pain of all
    That form the mighty hands;

    Although it seems so odd,
    I feel you are myself;
    All I can say is that
    I find the best at end;

    This dirt has taught me true
    Of how we fight as one;
    It says that we are right,
    And still, our kings smirk broad;

    Let blood flow on for life,
    For sons of those who live;
    Let two deaths build the Earth,
    Mankind’s own calm domain;