Monday, 29 July 2013

The broken Soldier

A son runs naked across the room
Happy to make dad smile as he loam
Mum calls softly from the bathroom
Soon the water will not be that warm
And the son might not like the cold
Two decades later this mother weeps under the sheets
Her son is cold in the enemies'  forest fronts
She fears what the cold will do to her only borne
And almost wails at every report of a soldier's death
She tried to prevent it with all her heart
Tried to pray and fast, to void a dire hurt
Her husband had made up his mind
The son was convinced it comes with being kind
And the society praised a young man, to go to find
Service to his motherland
What lies deep beneath a young soldier's heart??
Before he lets loose his first aimed bullet,
Before he lands deep into a live battlefield,
Before he sees his first bullet tear into a man,
And the color of blood fills his virgin eyes
Is there courage like they are taught in those barracks
Or is there pride as he watches another man go in cracks
Does he sing and aim for his next, unknowing target
Or lingers to swallow the magnitude of what his hands managed
Is it true fear lies behind the barrel of a gun?
Yet a soldier is the symbol of brevity and courage?
Do their eyes show what their hearts feel
Or are they coached to hide their fears, for their country to heal
A mother moans one less son to a bullet
A young woman cries her husband of one year is missing
A girl weeps her dad is never coming home again
I weep because their stories will never be told.

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