Proud [i]Hiryū,[/i] sundered from her sisters,
Left them astern, dive-bomber-doomed, 
Burning and turning in useless circles.
Still [i]Hiryū[/i] pressed on, grim in [i]ganbatte,[/i]
To do or die. Risking all
On her final throw, her death darts
Piloted by war weary, exhausted aces,
The last keen edge on the finest battle-blade
Ever forged, [i]Hiryū[/i] called the best and last 
From her crew, casting desperate dice.

Until the diving death from above
that slew her sisters, came for her
Bombs blossoming in metal rain
Fearsome fire, falling planes,
Falling ship through reddened skywater, setting sun.



Brave [i]Yorktown,[/i] defier of death,
Oft claimed sunken, always averting
The sundering shot, slipping aside.
Bearing battle scars deep down,
Devastated, undaunted, yet lashed by forge's fire
Hastily hammered to seaworthy shape,
She sailed to her sisters at Midway,
Island iota, ocean outpost.
[i]Yorktown[/i] launched fervent fliers
Seeking to deal death, oft finding their own.

Dauntless, devastating, but battered by blows,
[i]Yorktown[/i] sailed on, listing, leaning,
Reported dead again, turning bloody tide,
Listed longer, sub-struck, smashed by [i]Hiryū's[/i] last strike,
[i]Yorktown[/i] yielded, the cold seas rolled, 
Drowning her decks, flooding her fury.
 

Deep in darkness,
Both ships lie low in the haze.
Clouds of rust water, white bones,
Plane frames grounded on sea bed,

As far overhead, ships sail serenely, 
Cargo in containers, toys and tablets
Pass between ports in Osaka and Los Angeles,
The trade of free nations at peace.