Ordered to those far off lands; into God and generals hands.
Circumstance where faith must roam; wish for me to soon be home.
Prepared for this? No one can say. Duty calls my place today.
Between commitment and my life; I hope I live to see my wife.
Beyond such want, and even more; behind my will I lock the door.
Courage calls and I must say; what plans lay kept for me today?
Marching toward uncertainty; unto grips of destiny.
Hands are filled with cold blue steel; I pray for strength, to God I kneel.
Men mingle in their deathly dance; compromise has lost its chance.
Over bodies, trenches, mines; seared within my shattered mind.
Fight or flight to live or die. Over head those bullets fly.
Behold my life, has lost its gold. Spent by hate before I’m old.
Explosions lamp, a rumbling noise; waypoints hold a soldiers poise.
Guided glow by compass hand, in darkness through this foreign land.
One eye open, one eye shut; a soldier digs a shallow rut.
Taking turns, a resting day; I hope my dreams take me away.
Staring stars bring thoughts too soon. Does my lover see that moon?
Is it that to call our own? Somewhere between the lands we roam?
A soldier thinks, a soldier cares, a soldiers boots begin to wear.
Soldiers pray mail calls their name; letters keep a soldier sane.
As some may live, some will die; leaders laugh, leaders cry.
When ugliness of man has spoke. When battle fields have cleared of smoke.
Some will ride among a plane; some will ride upon a boat.
Families wait and set their clocks; the silent ones ride in their box.
Home will never be the same. Parts of me do not remain.
Deathly faces in my dreams. Wakened by familiar screams.
Within my role, I’m still not here. My soul is forced to live in fear.
Time is served but never done; a mind at war that’s never won.
So if it’s said; if it’s lied. That veteran soldier’s never cried.
That killing fuels a soldiers will. That soldiers crave a battles thrill.
That vision’s of a man’s demise excites a soldier through their eyes.
If any carry such a thought; you’ll know they never truly fought.
Trust me to say…I know too well.
Somewhere between this life and hell; they sacrificed themselves as well.
If soldiers had a chance to say; a statement gave upon release.
A soldier my friend…would wish for peace
L. J. Riley Jr. / Compassionpwr@juno.com / Published2006 / Copyright2006