"Of all the pulpits from which human voice is
Ever sent forth, there is none from which it
Reaches so far as from the grave"
The sun was rising solemn
Among the trees of this hallowed wood
At the graves o the thousands fallen
In solemn silence also we stood
This is no place for hope and faith
Yet fires still burn
In darkest night there sparks a light
Catharsis through mourns
Funeral mounds
Bleeding like open wounds
Like thorns in the crown
Gracing temples of truth
Another stone is cast
To reinforce the barricade
Another blood offered in trust
That sacrifice is never late
In barren ground bones make no sound
Deaf to our pleas
Reminding us that our pride
Is reborn in tragedies
Funeral mounds
Bleeding like open wounds
Like thorns in the crown
Gracing temples of truth
Lives fade away
And mounds remain
Future is bleak
Thus mounds will speak