A neatly written poem, designed to be easily remembered and repeated by anyone who can read, is pinned up in various back alleys. The gist of it goes like this :

The Dead are coming back to our arms, To fight beside us and till our farms.

The Dead parent untimely taken, Reunites with children forsaken.

The Dead soldier selfless and true, Takes blade with immortal strength renewed.

The Dead shall halt their march onward, and to their loved ones return toward.

We gaze on their features without fear, For with protective will they draw near.

No more will unsaid things be too late, Discourse with the Passed will never abate.

Guides bearing the wisdom of past lives return, Holding for us candles that through this Darkness burn.

When your day comes you won’t need to fear, That you’ll leave dear ones by loss so seared.

That the battle will be lost for want of your arm, That wife and child without you come to harm.