Song of the unspoken soldier


United States
31° 51' 31.3164" N, 106° 32' 47.8392" W

The song of the unspoken soldier

I am not sure why we were to be left here.
Gunshots blowing, streaking past our faces.
The great abyss of death and sadness
Only to be remised as light streaking by our eyes.

Charging into the front lines I see the line.
Line of men prepared to attack all who dare.
But I dared not. I ran and ran hoping to escape their gleam.
But by the time I realized it, it was too late

I felt a blow to the chest.
1,2, 3.
It went straight through my body
Like a tree trunk through a car window.

It struck me heard.
I heard the shouts of my men but it was too late
Blood shot out my chest like an unrestrained fire hydrant.
I lay there-

My life flashing back
As my body contorted
I realized that life isn’t to live a retaliation
But to avoid it.

In the soft spoken words of a good man,
Ghandi once said that the piece we find is through the silence
Eternal comes at the cost of restraint and conviction
And when you feel yourself break, then it has begun.

Because it takes one blow to set yourself back.
One blow to realize the worth of living.
But all too late it comes
That we realize that life is worth living at the time that we die.

I lay here dreaming of a day where don’t face this
That we see the meaning of life before it is too late.
I lay hear resting, bringing me eternal piece, as the pieces of my men get blown away
I lay here because that is all I can assume.

Life is so complicated that we climb the peaks of the mountains to seek its answers
We see daily gurus about what were meant to do
But sometimes living just takes a little step backward
Then you can live the rest of your life never looking back, and go forward-


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