A
soldier went off to fight in their war,
But a stranger came home that was unknown before.
Where such youth and innocence was once on his face,
The rigors of combat now stand in their place.
The eyes of that child held such tenderness there,
Now the eyes of the soldier with that thousand yard stare.
The training he received was state of the art,
Rewarding his efforts with a cold, purple heart.
They never mentioned the psychological cost,
As the man tries to bury the boy that he lost.
There's the moral dilemma of the combat he fought,
As he battles himself with all he's been taught.
The childhood teachings from the Good book,
Consumed by the guilt for the lives that he took.
Where the visions of death are burned into his brain,
Accompanied by memories that drive him insane.
Recalling those moments of gut wrenching fear,
Losing a comrade and never shedding a tear.
Each day is a sentence as he's forced to relive,
The war that his heart and his mind can't forgive.
The blood of a soldier now flows through his veins,
As a shell of a man is all that remains.
Each
new day's a threat as he waits to attack,
Because a boy went to war, but he never came back.
Author
Unknown