The soldier waved goodbye
Heading to chaos and the fight
Eyes closed, hand held high
He screamed, heart in sight
"Don't worry, I'll be right behind
Be back before the last flight."
Off to war he went, rifle held tight
A hail of bullets lighting the night
He charged, filled with but spite
On lips a chant of pox and blight
Ruin and pestilence, no respite
War followed, a stalking wight
He killed.
And killed.
But in the end a stray bullet's smite
Brought him low, life's last light
Flowing red, eyes losing their bright
There was no picture, no pendant
No locket, no letters, only memories
With one last gasp, he blinked at the sky
Took a deep breath, held it just right
And went home one final time.
