A Light from the Lisbon Maru
They were prisoners held by Japan,
All stout defenders of Hong Kong;
They were there since the war in the East began,
Closely knit but a fragile throng.
They went to the land of the Rising Sun,
Unfed, bewildered and forlorn,
Compelled by the whim of the eager gun
To wish that they had never been born!
Once they were armed and neatly furled like flags,
Bonded to fight with dignity.
But later they cringed tattered in rags,
Defenceless from malignity.
Some were the survivors of a ship
That was sunk by a torpedo crew,
Who were all determined to make that trip
The last of the Lisbon Maru
They were battened tight within their holds
Despairing, no longer proud,
And those that died, though grom separate moulds,
Were buried in the same grim shroud.
Those who lived were drawn like floating dross
To the crowded surface of the sea,
But later others died upon the cross,
And the rest survived like me!
Years on in thought I take a longer pause
To stem the tears I always shed,
When I perceive the frequency of wars,
And then relive the pain of dread.
A light descends on those with swords ungirt,
Advancing beyond all thought
A warning beam of love that eases hurt,
And clings as friend help is sought.
My prayers for all concerned who lived and died,
For comrades and for foes alike
Are offered now, all fully sanctified
With love, the Godly essence of my Psych.