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ANZAC Day
To those who don't know, today is ANZAC day in New Zealand and Australia and it's the day where we remember those who fell in battle and served during WW1 and all those afterwards. It was taken off the day when ANZAC soldiers were ordered to try to capture Istanbul in a huge military blunder made by the British military staff, namely Mr Churchill.
So to commemorate them, I'm leaving a few poems here.
The Anzac Ode
They shall grow not old,
As we that are left grow old,
Age shall not weary them,
Nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun,
And in the morning
We will remember them. Lest we Forget
Wilfred Owen
Dulce Et Decorum Est
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind.
GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.--
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
I remember them, but I won't stand for anyone glorifying them.
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Everyone has a ghost...a phantom behind us which slows and drags us down.. This ghost or spectral has a name..."Regret".
"I've never regretted anything..." - Light Yagami
Life is a shit sandwich. Unfortunately, it's always lunchtime. How much bread you have goes a long way toward determining how easy it is to swallow.
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