The 11th hour, 11th day, 11th month, in 1918,
For the soldiers, civilians and lives in-between,
Two minutes of silence saved for the ones who lost,
For the enemy lines that were conquered and crossed.
Poppies poised for a blood-red reminder,
who fought to bring peace for a world much kinder.
For the Flander's Field fighters in trenches and mud,
Our history now stained with their bullets and blood.
The sound of the bugle rings out loud and clear,
Words of larks and love begin to appear.
21 guns pointed with pride, fire a farewell,
As Peace Tower sings out the sound of its bell.
Wars that scarred and stripped away,
The lives and th