You lived your life for what you believed,
The rape of your country you greatly grieved.
The price you paid was unjustly high,
You left your family to mourn and cry.
Was it worth the risks you took?
To write a page in a history book.
In time your country to its senses will come,
And all you will have gained is a family left numb.
Beautiful, intelligent, with a heart so brave,
For your fellow countrymen your life you gave.
Behind the lines you crawled each night,
To even the score in your country's plight.
You were so modest when you spoke of the danger,
Death to your countrymen was no stranger.
Girls and boys half your age,
In bloody battles they would wage.
Your country's sanity has all but gone,
Children lie dead with every dawn.
Their innocence, in time will turn to hate,
For a cause that their ancestors did create.
Now you lie within your shrine,
For their mother your children pine.
Not understanding you were destined to die,
They will always ask when, where and why?
Written & (c) John McKay Withey 1996
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