Lest We Forget

[altogetherisi]

... If in some smothering dreams you too could pace  
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,  
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,  
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;  
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood  
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,  
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud 
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,  

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest 
To children ardent for some desperate glory,  
The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est  
Pro patria mori.

Never forgotten.