Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

Daylight bleeds into night,

the sound of guns firing in battle

men falling, fireflies dancing above their heads

Ghostly glow for the dead, now fear is alive

The class ring on blackened burned out hands

shines the way, starlight bouncing on gold

They no longer want, they hear no chatter

No sweet smells of honey where they lie

There is a special room put aside

Where their names chime through eternity…