User:Arthedain The Darkbringer

In Flanders fields the poppies grow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That marks our place; and in the sky

The larks still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

''We are the dead. Short days ago''

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders Fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high,

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.