The bells began to ring upon hearing
That war was all but done across the sea.
We ran out to the streets to men cheering
And girls were weeping in unbridled glee.
"My son will soon be home," a mother cried,
But a stoic envoy approached her house.
He told her that her only son had died
Then left with stolid face to home and spouse.
The taste of victory is poison now
To that old woman grieving on her knees.
She waits for the government to allow
Her to conscript his ashes to the breeze
And finally he's free to find his way
But she'd rather he be with her one more day.
The armistice of 11th November is signed, ending World War I, on this day in 1918.