June 8, 2003
A promise made to those they sent
A solemn oath sworn on men’s lives,
A promise made without dissent,
And unredeemed by mourning cries

Armed with death the faithful went,
To overwhelm a graceless foe,
With sinew to their purpose bent,
With heavens fire and fire below,

In the desert, in the town,
In garrets high and pits dug deep,
Looking up and peering down.
To find the plagues of endless sleep

The promise made, Death would be there,
The pledge from which the war derives,
An empty pledge made without care,
And that is how a Nation dies,
On a bed of nails, a bed of lies.