Distant Warrior
I get this wondrous chill as night falls
in mountains or desert sand
and I find myself dreaming about
home, my fondest memory
from this far away land.
I miss the special lady who
stole my heart, my thoughts
and all there is of me;
and I deeply cherish
our final moments together.
I think about the children
I left behind, how I miss them
and pray they’re fine -
and it’s hard Lord,
it’s so very hard.
It’s times like this that I wonder
why I volunteered and I
get this knot in my stomach -
then I cringe and find myself
trying to hold back tears.
Soon the battle will begin
when I’ll hear my own heartbeat
through the creepy sounds
amidst treacherous mountain sides or
drifting sands and whirling winds.
It’s time spent in worry,
fear, and some regret
as I encounter my fate
in the war so near
and I must admit, I’m scared.
This stench of war,
the sight of it all,
it’s that awful image
of how I imagined hell
after Lucifer’s fall.
I wonder to myself,
“Does it have to be
that generations of people
can’t seem to agree
to the simple concept of peace?”
Soldiers don’t start wars
but they surely fight them,
making all manner of sacrifice
and I doubt that even once
did a soldier ever like them.”
Then I think of “Old Glory”
and I’m filled with pride.
It’s a warm patriotic feeling
which overcomes me
from deep down inside.
I’m confused, scared
and battle weary.
I worry about those I love
as I cling to my faith
and pray to God above.
I’m a distant warrior,
an American fighting man;
not an aspiring hero,
but just a simple soldier
trying to do the best that I can.
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