The Busker

Decisions

The Lily Wilts

The Lily Wilts

And there he cradles, with rifle aimed

The ideal nurtured from history pained.

And spoken to by public men

The righteous goal to fight again.

And now to choose from life apart

To live as is or die to chart

A means for man to share his bread

For simple end, that all are fed.

In his trench, his communal grave

Ideal words, those deaths, forgave.

All is well, those others say

But in that trench your dream must stay.

The world you gave, but could not cross

Has now decayed for that loss.

The lily wilts, your bloom does fade

Whilst public men in silver trade.