8: 00 pm: br The gate closed to mundane daily comings and goings, br Those gathered fidgeted with small talk in anticipation br Names in precisely incised rolls clothed cavernous walls for br Those extinguished, expunged from the ordinary, their br Wasted blood in nearby fields long since leached away br And the vintage war with horses and wagons br Gas and brittle and unreliable machines br as good as ancient history from a distant millennia. br br A mixed crowd fell silent beneath Menin Gate, br the Last Post reverberated in crisp night air br Solemn peace connected cultures br A new paradigm away from religion and ideology, br Secular with smudged borders where br Nationalism and expansionism have no currency br Where those once connected only in death br Are interconnected globally by trade and friendship, br While governments guard borders and self-interest br Driven by the old entrenched paradigms, br The people build and enmesh humanity br Progress change by the common good br Under global markets where business is online br Freely conducted nowhere but everywhere instantly br And social media builds and webs a global community, br People move around the world by need or choice and br nationality remains as a passé concept or br A nod to roots or origin, br Or consequence of geography, a br perfunctory necessity for planning, br Cultures blend through friendship and knowledge, br Old boundaries and old hatreds, br Old contrivances of whipped up br Xenophobic stereotypes and scape goats br Seem ever more meaningless br and it's seeds increasingly sterile. br Exploitation is now market driven br But will pass by the peoples’ will. br br Those that gave and later forgave br were the essence for today’s reality, br Known and unknown in the fertile Earth, they br lay at rest, assured in our memory.