Two hundred thousand suns I’ve seen that shone
On my reclining marble prayerful face,
And many thousands gazing thereupon,
And wondering at what brought me to this place:
I saved my honour in a field of France
By giving all I had to give in strife.
Our foes, though many, never had a chance –
At awful cost they bought from me my life.
But shallow jesters now me cluster round
Ignoring guides who tell them of my fate,
Muttering into their boxes of sound,
“Tell the hotel that we’re gonna be late”.
I feel that I had really hoped for more,
And ask myself, “Was this worth fighting for?”
Chris Moller, 3rd November 2004.