A Soldier

I serve my time a frontline soldier

Watch young men growing older

Older than their years,

I cry my tears

In safety back at base,

Where a brave man can hide his face and weep 

Shed tears for those in death who sleep,

Those tragic souls taken before their time,

Where mindless killing is not a crime.

A soldier’s worth should be measured by his courage

Not by the earth in which he lies.

Or for the cause for which he dies

But family and memories of home

Those fields and meadows

Where I'd roam with my beloved on summer days,

And poured four-leaf clovers through her hair 

We would stare at each other for hours and not speak

And as the sun went down I would kiss her cheek.  

Sadly silence has lost all meaning

For all I hear is the bitter screaming

The bombs and sounds of raging guns

The death of many fallen sons 

I hunt the brave and the weak

In this place I use my gun to speak

Am I a man that’s born to kill?

I have my orders but not my will

If I could choose a life of peace

War itself it would not cease.

The hateful eyes I see,

That would end this tour of misery,

The poisoned eyes that stare 

The enemy waits his pain to share

I will charge unto the air.

The blessing of my enemy’s death 

I find each breath of life renewed

Best to hunt than be pursued 

My child and wife back home 

Are not known here

The fear and dread the armies of the dead

Do not walk in my stead 

I need no pity for I wear a warrior’s mask

It shields me from this brutal task

But when this war, this war is over

I will give my beloved a four-leaf clover

Share her touch and warm embrace

Shed the mask that scars my face.

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