Testo Soldiers Hands

trouble's brewing in the ranks
broken (knot?) on every flag
and all the soldiers' hands were red
from all the tears and blood that's shed

and in the morning when the reveille
pulls us from more sleep
puts a fracture in the reverie and kills our quiet dreams

widow waits (_____________?)
a solemn look upon her face
time is lost in love and war
remember what you're waiting for

then the morning when the enemy
fire among the (_____?)
sounds like voices in analogy
(_____________?)