Dedicated To All The Soldiers.
Title– Chronicle Of A Soldier.
We were sent to war
Thousands and thousands of us.
To fight for the peace of our nation.
A nation filled with tribalism.
To restore peace and lost properties.
Everyday is war, man feels for no man.
Thousands upon thousands died.
Our hands are filled with blood.
The blood of thousands of people.
After the great combat.
What was left of us was a pair of black dirty boots and our damned rifles.
Definitely if you wish to imagine what we looked like.
You can picture what the World War II soldiers looked like.
Hand on shoulders
We supported our wounded fellow to an old iron bus.
Waiting to take us home.
No time to laugh or smile.
We could only console each other.
As we pass through the hills and rocks.
We thought of our fellows and opponent.
Who kicked the dust.
We thought of the state of their wives.
Definitely weeping widows who can’t be consoled.
The memories of the brutal war.
The impetuous killing of both the innocent and the wrong.
The sight of seeing our own perilously killed.
And the number of souls our guns
Has sent to the world beyond.
Was enough to make us psychologically abnormal.
Finally after seeing our comrades, we got home.
The joy of seeing our home and families
Was a natural healing nothing else can bring.
The chime of time.
The joyous noise from our kids.
The blare from the radio and TV set.
The chug of an engine train from a nearby train station.
The crackling of firewood from the hearth.
And the singing of the kettle
While the bubbling water boiled within.
Reminds us we’re home.
In our bedroom with our wives.
We cuddled them to our chest.
Our wives are our gold, yes they are.
Because not all ladies will love to marry us
Whose hands are filled with blood.
Not all ladies will tolerate our absence at home.
Not all ladies will be able to bear the risk we suffer
For the peace and harmony of our nation.
The trillions of dollars given to them
As compensation is not enough.
The sweet stories they tell our kids in our absence.
The The lonely night they spend without us.
The scary feelings they have of what the war may bring.
And the agony they bear should we not be back alive.
All these, trillions of dollars can’t compensate.
Definitely it can settle their physical worries
But not the love we share together.
We feel the burden of war ourselves,
We fight to restore peace and harmony,
We make history even at an extreme expense.
War isn’t what we wish for
But when it comes.
We just have to face the brutality.