deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Solider
The solider, rising after every fall
Sword poised to swing, each strike to the enemy
mirrored in their own heart and soul
No respite, no room to breathe
Each breath, each heartbeat the challenge
in the great battle of staying alive
It wouldn't even be falling, but free-falling
into the darkness of the well, all know the one
The well so deep, so vast that stars shine at noon
and can barely been seen.
Perhaps here, there will be healing rest
for the soldier who so wants to live
yet doubts the world wants the same for them
Sword poised to swing, each strike to the enemy
mirrored in their own heart and soul
No respite, no room to breathe
Each breath, each heartbeat the challenge
in the great battle of staying alive
It wouldn't even be falling, but free-falling
into the darkness of the well, all know the one
The well so deep, so vast that stars shine at noon
and can barely been seen.
Perhaps here, there will be healing rest
for the soldier who so wants to live
yet doubts the world wants the same for them
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