Black Jack: The Legacy of Pershing

In the relentless flow of time's grand arc,
Rebirth cast me anew,
A soul once woven in history's stark,
Emerges in a world it once knew.

They called me Black Jack, a name from the past,
In this new life, under a different sun,
Yet echoes of old wars thrum in my heart so vast,
Where battles raged and rivers of blood did run.

In dreams, I march through No Man's Land,
Amidst the relentless thunder of the guns,
Where tanks plowed through the muddied land,
Beneath the smoke that blotted out the suns.

I hear the deafening roar of artillery,
See the trenches, deep and dreadfully wide,
Men huddled in mud, facing mortality,
In a terrifying, endless, hideous tide.

Gas clouds billowing, a suffocating haze,
A ghastly dance in barbed wire's embrace,
Haunted eyes lost in the shell's smoky maze,
The ghostly look on each young soldier's face.

I teach of battles, of Somme and Marne's plight,
Of Verdun's endless, bloodied churn,
Where humanity's dreams were torn in the night,
In each scar, a poignant lesson to learn.

Now, far from war's ear-shattering scream,
In classrooms, I speak of valor, of fear,
Each tale a fragment of a soldier's dream,
Echoes of the past, resonating clear.

Yet, in this modern guise, I keenly see,
A reflection of a past so dark and stark,
A general once, in history's unforgiving spree,
Now a guardian of memories, a guiding ark.

Through fields of peace, I walk with unseen ghosts,
Their whispers in the wind, a silent choir,
In this new life, merely a host,
To a past set ablaze by war's ruthless fire.

In this era, no armies at my command,
No troops to marshal, no bugle's mournful call,
But in each lesson, a memory stands,
A testament to history, standing tall.

For I am Black Jack, reborn with a mission to teach,
A link to a past both fierce and free,
In every story told, a far-reaching breach,
To bridge the days from what was, to what will be.

They called it "the war to end all wars," a bitter jest,
For in my heart, the truth burns ever so clear,
Wars rage on, humanity's unending quest,
In Pershing's soul, the hope and the tear.

So, let me guide, let me reveal, let me be,
A conduit for history's relentless, surging sea,
In every echo of the battles, a plea,
In Pershing's heart, the quest for peace, an unending decree.