Walk the Ground
I walk the ground where we used to tread
and the roses bloomed in spring;
I walk the ground where the skies rained down
and the Lord of Death was king.
I walk the ground where the ashes swirled
and the echoes told of war;
I walk the ground where the seeds were cast
and the grass would grow no more.
I walk the ground with rheumatic limbs
as the ages stripped me bare;
I walk the ground between land and sea
with the bunkers buried there.
I walk the ground where they buried you
in that dreadful month of June,
I walk the ground where your stone is set
and I say I will see you soon.
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