Simply: Third Collection of Poetry

My Worn Soldier

In the mist about where the roar of cannons shake
Where iron is against iron and the fierce cannons quake
Is a turmoil arising like before no other
Where the battles fight are brother versus brother

And there he lies, my worn soldier

In this battle of life there is that one soldier bold
Whose eyes lock the sea with waves of hair gold
Perturbed, exhausted and beaten he continues to strive
With each moving blood and breath freely alive

For one day I fantasize of his return
I'll then cast my gaze upon him to discern
His rugged life that has now greatly passed
With his craggy scars that seem aghast

And we'll embrace with such tenderness and passion
Our new lives we'll contently refashion
I'll kiss his scars to provide comfort and care
To fix his mind his life's repair

And there he lies, my worn soldier
To mend his jaded happiness' smolder
We'll make his shell shocked past anew
And our love we will timely pursue

But this dream ceases to be sincere
Since this war isn't what it appears
It's bullet after bullet and death after death
With more and more men taking their last breath

And there he lies, my worn soldier