Abstracted

This Soldier of Yours

This soldier of yours is breaking down.

These feet no longer take me where I need to go.

I'm a horse with no reins

but bound by the chains

of knowing that I never should have left.

This sense of abandonment should never be known,

but I might not have the chance to mend

that heart of yours, so carefully sewn.

But without me,

winter still melts into flowery grass,

and the summer still changes leaves to brass.

I want you to know,

each shot that is blown

brings me one shell closer to home.

Whiskers sprout on my jaw,

my hair frosts over with the cold.

Now I'm a hare with my winter camouflage;

a sitting duck in a field of hate.

I write this through the blood and dirt,

as fire stains my face.

The sun doesn't smile upon me;

this soldier of yours is bound by this race.

Just keep me a promise.

Don't let my memory crumble to dust,

but keep this last verse close and remember.