“How many wasted lives? How many dreams did fade away?
Broken promises they won’t be coming home
Oh mothers wipe your tears your sons will rest a million years
Found their peace at last as foe turn to friend and forgive
And they knew they’d die”—Sabaton
“Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven, Nevermore.”— The Raven
Edgar Allan Poe