A Soldiers Tears

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A tribute to the Soldiers I see everyday who struggle with what they have had to do and so proudly continue to carry on even through their pain.

Submitted: February 01, 2010

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Submitted: February 01, 2010

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The sunset, watching the world intently, spied a man beside a grave, standing there so gently.

The lone soldier, contemplating all he felt, in front of the unknown grave, he so sadly knelt.

A single tear slid slowly down his cheek.  “I’m not sure what to ask for, is it forgiveness that I seek?”

He was a proud and honorable man, his duties, none ever taken lightly.

The sunset sent the wind to whisper to him quietly,  “Do you ever see their dead and dying faces?”

His soul in torment, he tragically replied:  “Only nightly.”

As the dark started to creep, wordlessly, from the shadows, it found the proud soldier with his head bowed low in shame.

Softly appearing at his side, night gently called his name.  “Why, my child, are you so completely filled with blame?”

The lone soldier his broad chest silently shaking, humbly gave his reply:

“I have taken many sons from their loving mothers, this I won’t deny.”

“For what a monster I would be, if instead, I chose to lie.”

The night called softly back to him:  “Living life full of regrets will only drive you insane.”

“I hope you find comfort in remembering, it was never for personal gain.”

The dejected soldier sighed deeply then cried out in anguish:  “But it doesn’t erase the pain!”

“No, my child, I am afraid it’s part of the burden, with your brothers you must share.” 

 “And never forgetting their faces, yes, that’s your cross to bear.”

 Night encouragingly continued, “But never be ashamed to cry, for it shows the world you care.”

As the night slowly faded and dawn took his place, she eavesdropping, replied without disgrace:

“My dear warrior, as for forgiveness, it isn’t yours to ask.”  “That job belongs to all of us who so selfishly gave you the task.”

The sun having risen for the day, smiled gently down upon the soldier with these final words to say:  “Stand up my son and don’t delay.”  “I know we’ve asked a heavy burden for some to have to pay, and now, brave soldier, it is time to go and fight another day.”

Facing the sunrise, dried tears upon his face, left there as a gift, his ultimate price to pay, into the mourning mist, the proud soldier marched without delay.  -Off to fight another day.

Natalie McCart


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