This world of death is more a turn of mind
whose horror, locked in consciousness, is worse
than all real grisly savagery combined.
The cradles of our sons becomes the hearse
from which new eyes and hearts will never know
that ecstacy and wonder, are yet the prize,
that earnest souls of dauntless will to grow,
despite all sufferings, will Realize.
That many men endure hope killing strife
of loved one's deaths, or cruel disease's blight,
still precious and miraculous is Life,
as candle's flame or everlasting Light.
It's true, the loss and agony are real,
still, Glory's Crown eclipses Hell's ordeal.