In the land where ashes fall like snow,
Where skies are thick with war's cruel glow,
She stands alone, a towering flame,
A battle angel without a name.
Her family lost to the cruelest hand,
An invasion swept across the land.
Her heart turned steel, her soul went cold,
She joined the fight, fierce and bold.
The only woman in the field of men,
Her presence feared again, again.
She towers high, her body strong,
A soldier where she doesn't belong.
But guns in hand, she makes her mark,
In every battle, fierce and dark.
Two large weapons at her side,
She rages forth, no place to hide.
Her eyes burn red with every death,
She feels the rage in every breath.
The enemy trembles, the men step back,
For none survive her first attack.
Her family gone, her heart in chains,
She fights, she fires, she feels no pain.
With each defeat, her anger grows,
A storm within her, no one knows.
Her eyes have seen too much of death,
The cries of war steal every breath.
Yet with each foe she lays to rest,
Her broken heart beats in her chest.
Then on a day of smoke and flame,
She found a house that bore no name.
Inside she burst, her guns alight,
To end the men who sought the fight.
But in the silence that remained,
A cry of fear, a voice unstained.
She turned and saw within the gloom,
A child alone in shattered room.
The little girl, her body curled,
Innocence lost within this world.
Her tiny face, so full of dread,
Amid the ruins, cold and dead.
The battle angel paused, then knelt,
Her war-torn heart began to melt.
She dropped her guns, her fury spent,
And in that moment, something bent.
And in that moment, her rage fell still,
Her hardened heart, against her will,
Began to thaw, to melt, to heal,
For the little girl's touch was real.
Small arms wrapped around her frame,
Whispered warmth against the flame.
The battle angel, cold and grim,
Felt something stir deep within.
She had fought for years with steel and lead,
For every death, for every dread.
But here she stood, no fight, no fire,
Just a child's embrace that lifted her higher.
And for the first time since the war began,
She felt the touch of a soft, gentle hand.
No longer just a soldier, no longer just pain,
The battle angel wept in the falling rain.
She held the girl close, her tears unspoken,
Two lives shattered, but somehow unbroken.
For in this child, she saw a spark,
A chance to heal, to leave the dark.
For though she was feared without a name,
She'd found a new purpose among the flame.
The battle angel, fierce and bold,
Now fought for love, in a world so cold.
For even in the darkest fight,
There lies the chance for morning light.
And though her path is forged in flame,
She knows her soul is not the same.
The war may rage, the world may fall,
But she will stand and fight them all.
Not just for blood or victory's call,
But for the child who saved her soul most of all.
YOU ARE READING
Hidden Wonders
PoetryThis book is largely reserved for poems only as I document my thoughts from time to time. Some of you might resonate with them as we all experience variety of unexplained, deep-seated emotions from time to time. The purpose is for me to be authentic...
