Anthem for Doomed Youth - Wilfred Owen (1893-1918) 

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
      — Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
      Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells; 
      Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,—
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
      And bugles calling for them from sad shires.

What candles may be held to speed them all?
      Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
      The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

"Anthem for Doomed Youth"   Wilfed Owen, written in 1917, first published in 1920. Reproduced here from the poetry foundation.org (here), 

As we march towards Armistice day it seems appropriate to write about Wilfred Owen who was killed in action "today",  4th November 1918, just one week before the end of the war. His poetry had a huge impact on the 17 year old me, and I am forever grateful to my A level English teacher for introducing him to me and subsequently many other poets, giving me a life long love of the aesthetic power and impact of the carefully structured rhythm and pattern of the spoken word.

'Anthem for Doomed Youth' read by Sean Bean here brings tears and goosebumps every time.