Chapter 1
The thousand who
Died in the
Line of fire
Rise
The soldiers rise once more
Unseen
They put on a show
Nevertheless
The pockmarked bodies
Rise, levitate
Slow motion ballet
In midair
Apathetic of the war
Around
Their faces
Show shades of sadness
They move elegantly
Pirouetting up
Once more
Solemnly watching
They mourn
For those who shall be
Like them
The danse macabre
They shall mourn
By moving
A rose in each pocket
Of the uniform
For the incense event
Forever they shall carry on
To grow in number
For each is the victim of war
