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There is no word to name the father that lost a son

There is no hell like the one that man has done!

You are blind like us.

Your hurt no man designed,

And no man claimed

the conquest of your land.

But gropers both

through fields of thought confined

We stumble and we

do not understand.

You only saw your future bigly planned,

And we, the tapering paths of our own mind,

And in each other's dearest ways we stand,

And hiss and hate. And the blind fight the blind.

Blind fight the blind.

There is no word to name the father that lost a son

There is no hell like the one that man has done!

You only saw your future bigly planned,

And we, the tapering paths of our own mind,

And in each other's dearest ways we stand,

And hiss and hate. And the blind fight the blind.

Only the dead, have seen the end of the war! (Plato)

Based on "To Germany" by Charles Hamilton Sorley