Distant Warrior

I get this wondrous chill as night falls in mountains or desert sand and I find myself dreaming about home, my fondest memory from this far away land. I miss the special lady who stole my heart, my thoughts and all there is of me; and I deeply cherish our final moments together. I think about the children I left behind, how I miss them and pray they’re fine - and it’s hard Lord, it’s so very hard. It’s times like this that I wonder why I volunteered and I get this knot in my stomach - then I cringe and find myself trying to hold back tears. Soon the battle will begin when I’ll hear my own heartbeat through the creepy sounds amidst treacherous mountain sides or drifting sands and whirling winds. It’s time spent in worry, fear, and some regret as I encounter my fate in the war so near and I must admit, I’m scared. This stench of war, the sight of it all, it’s that awful image of how I imagined hell after Lucifer’s fall. I wonder to myself, “Does it have to be that generations of people can’t seem to agree to the simple concept of peace?” Soldiers don’t start wars but they surely fight them, making all manner of sacrifice and I doubt that even once did a soldier ever like them.” Then I think of “Old Glory” and I’m filled with pride. It’s a warm patriotic feeling which overcomes me from deep down inside. I’m confused, scared and battle weary. I worry about those I love as I cling to my faith and pray to God above. I’m a distant warrior, an American fighting man; not an aspiring hero, but just a simple soldier trying to do the best that I can.