The Soldier

March 30, 2011
Softly, now, a poet's lisp
Calling to me through the gray
Gently, now, a parent's wish
That his only son may stay
Weakly, now, a lover's voice
Pleading to me through the fray
Freely, now, a fighter's choice
Reprimanding those at bay
Shyly, now, a child's cry
Asking for just one more day
Grimly, now, an old man's sigh
Saying what they always say
Sadly, now, a human's moan
Censuring this bloody play
Calmly, now, a spirit's tone:
"Men were meant to be this way."





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