Wars and Hope
There he sat.
Surrounded by a darkness without end.
Silently crying within,
Afraid he’ll give in
To the emotions that are bursting to break free.
This soul…
So young but so old,
Ceases to believe in something so bright;
Thinking he’ll never see the break of a new dawn,
Or the glittering shine of the moon
Illumination on a still lake
In the timeless hours before the sun
Surrounded by the countless beauties of the night…
Caught in an ageless realm.
Or believing in something
That should be an automatic given
And not a privilege.
Something that…
To most…
Has been too frivolously taken
Or perhaps…
Forgotten in time?
What he would give
To enjoy simply being a child
And the overwhelming joys that it beholds
…For even a day
What he would give
To once…even just once,
See his lil’ sis and lil’ bro
Not have a worry to portray,
But just be able to
Laugh, jump, skip, and play
What he would give
To once…even just once,
See these two beautiful little faces,
Smile brightly at something…
Something as simple as the beauty of a tree:
The changing of the leaves:
Or the nippy but unquestionably
Stunning white blanket,
That winter brings.
What he would do
To once…even just once,
See their melancholy smile
Turned around
Into an incandescent beam.
What he would do
To once…even just once,
Not see them worked
From day’s first light
‘Till night fall’s break.
This is all he wants.
To be able to see them
Laugh, jump, skip, and play
Without a worry to portray .
For he doesn’t want his lil’ sis and lil’ bro
To be ensnared in battle
…Like he...
For a childhood is what he missed.
But no one can see this through his lies.
Although…
From time to time…
They are betrayed by his translucent eyes;
So he ceases to believe in something so bright,
Thinking he’ll never see the break of a new dawn.
To be strong and perseverant,
This is what he’s supposed to be;
At least…
That is what he believes.
And…by this,
Everything that is the truth
Of what he feels
Is buried, masked, secluded, forgotten…
In less than a matter of moments
As he continues to fight.
By the strength of a soldier,
With the heart of a soldier.
To be strong and persevere,
Is what a soldier does.
‘Cause no matter what hurls them to the ground
A soldier and his bleeding heart
Always stands up
And carries on.
For he fights a war
With guns, tanks, and grenades.
And every time he sets afoot upon that field of battle,
A part of him shatters.
Like glass fallen from a steady hand,
And as he takes a pause,
He looks around.
To the left, to the right,
Straight ahead and straight behind.
Heart racing, pulse increasing.
And in the corner of his eye,
A fellow warrior makes…takes…
One more opportune moment
To try and fire on the opponent.
As they come crashing to the ground
(With crimson stained clothes,
Heart racing, pulse increasing)
Suddenly…everything slows
Eyes become glassy and fogged.
Heart quickly fades.
Pulse resides to near inexistence,
Making the fall sound as thunder.
And by the time there face hits the ground
There heart, mind, and soul…flatlined…
With no hope of return.
And a single tear is shed
By our boy soldier,
His heart racing, pulse increasing…
For another friend
Has been taken…
This war he fights…
Where thousands are left
Lying in crimson puddles
(Bleeding, wounded, dead)
Causes a more fatal one within.
Another war in which
There seems to be
No beginning…no end.
A war where…
He is not only a soldier
But an entire army too.
This life that he lives
Isn’t really a life at all,
But surviving in what is.
And it keeps him away…
Keeps him away from enjoying what he should be…
A child without a worry to portray.
And he wonders…
How can people just stand by
And just drape a veil over the immoral…the wrong,
So they don’t have to act,
Don’t have to think,
And pretend not to see;
As another precious young life is murdered…
Forgotten…
And another watches….
Waiting for the next to die?
But he doesn’t give up hope
That someone will see
The immorality that he sees
In that which he lives each day;
And in the way he’s forced
To be a part of something that he abhors,
When he shouldn’t have a worry to portray.
But for now, he continues to fight
In a useless battle,
Waiting…hoping…and waiting some more,
That someone will come
And revive the children
That have not been completely lost in battle;
The ones who still have hope of being a child…
And simply give them
What all children should be freely given…
A family…
A home…
A place where they know
They can always return…
A place where they can live
Without fretting for their life
Or having to watch every step they take
Hoping that the next isn’t their last…
A place where they will always…
Always feel loved….
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