A soldier waits and listens
For war is a constant mission

A bullet whistles
like a class room dismissal

Sweat drips into his eyes
and he severs all ties
with humanity

He shoulders his rifle
and tries to stifle,
his moral sense
and feels he can repent

He sends the round
and hears the sound,

his heart sinks
and he instantly thinks
what have I done

returning home
with a heart of stone.
he feels little love
for peace and a dove

he is tight and distraught
and is consumed and caught
in the net of regret he feels

the battle rages on
and weighs a ton
on body of the man.

war is all hell
and soldiers dare not tell
of what was endured
because of their demons that stirred
in the face of survival

war never ends
it only treads
in the soul of the person
who experienced the tradegy