This page is dedicated to all those who
lost their lives throughout history in senseless wars including those in the US on Sept/11/01.
On the 11th hour of
the 11th month in the 11th year, they will be remembered forever.
In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the
crosses, row on row, That mark 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.
