Leave Me This Last Shred of Hope

Let us leave the answer

For the historian to record

We who have not prophet-eyes

To read the future

Cry with a terrible wailing

The senselessness of the last warring struggle.

Backward in history

Like-wailings were heard,

Yet time built a monument to freedom

On the graves of its martyrs--

The cross of Calvary

Transposed a song of death

Into a timeless symphony of life.

So may the fields of crosses

Blossom into the beauty

Of freedom for all men.

Leave me this last shred of home

For my son was killed in Korea.