Tower Hill, 26.10.14
Poppies spill from the ramparts and fill the tower’s moat, like a lake of scarlet red. Like the blood of each life lost. Each poppy a gravestone for our fallen soldiers. The life that grows around the sleeping souls, bringing peace at last to our bravest. The men who fought and defended. The men who were once there before. A man once full of life, now just a memory. It is a cost that will only be paid for in violence. British and Commonwealth through all walks of life, united together for one mission. By Land, Sea and Air… both sides fought a bitter and ruthless war. Bleak battlefields brought a biblical hell to the world in which only the valiant can survive. For our today, they gave their tomorrow. We will remember them. Honour the lives lost. Honour the poppy.