Battle's Price
Disclaimer: I do not own Les Miserables in the least. If I did I would be a heck of a lot richer and I would have a weird French name.
There is stood,
Tall and wild,
A twisted wicked,
Ogre's child,
A tall tower of death,
Menacing,
A mountain of war-tide,
Frightening,
And o'er its stacked frame,
Lay the children perishing,
Why did they spill their blood,
Into the mire, into the mud?
Was such sacrifice necessary,
Of the ideals revolutionary?
And there the summer childer sleep,
While mother and sister sobs and weeps,
While brother and friend morn in the night,
The ABC have given up the fight.