Muddy waters mix with blood.
The blood of a young man,
far from home.
Wet, cold, tired, hurt,
yet he does not falter.
A call from his country,
to defend his allies.
An adventure seen,
yet a horror lived.
Total chaos.
Smoke, fire, steel.
Hurt, pain, burning flesh.
Blood.
Death.
Peace.
Eternal peace.
Red does the poppy bloom.
Stained red by the blood,
of a South African son.
Rest young man,
you are with us no more, yet you will never be forgotten.
(by Cobus Brink 2013)