Here, embroiled within the 'Bloody Brawl' of Passchendale,
a limb from limb torn hill, a Man made carnival of Hell,
prostrate lay I, mutilated, slow and obscenely dying,
but one last wish my fast failing heart a heeding,
My Mary's last letter, from my pocket, I so request
e'er to scan again, realms of love, known the best,
softly e'er she penned, with quietude, serenely wrote
love spun lines, for thee, the world at war,I'll quote,

"Love, thou sadly ensconced in war's harsh thwack,
enduring fury's roar and battles stressful sin,
thou, stoic of heart, set out to conquering win
humanities pride, re-instate her restful ways
of love, but pray I this, return ye fleeting back
one of these love filled days,

Pray speed the hours and swiftly flow
the lonely days that loiter long it seems,
time alas! now, measured in hope of dreams
of our tomorrows, whence,life flushed ablaze,
so return ye safe, then joy together know
one of the love filled days,

Oh! Waiting 'tis but a bitter task, a lover's fate
to languish long, e'er with fortitude, so to strive
days entrenched, keeping shinning hope, bright, alive
when strolling we, saunter our once loved ways
hand holding hand, with fervent heart I patient wait
one of these love filled days.