Fire Behind the Eyes

Mine enemy, well cursed and scorned frail corpse askew and so adorned in beggers cloths, cum uniform was less a soldier ever born? Scarlet spilled has gone to brown the bullets spent that cut you down have left a castle for the flies and stole the fire behind your eyes. Was heart, or mind that which inspires nocturnal transit through the wires Love of country, or was it fear of us, or those who led you here? Your sacrificial consequence so little now, so little hence lies dead now just inside the fence your body, and my innocence. To justify the call to war Mine enemy, I needed more; more hatred, ugliness and dread to justify what made you dead. Some will say that history shows there are no atheists in holes on Flander's fields or Khe San's hills but shrapnel cares not who it kills. I know fate's a fickle lover, with blistered hands I dig my cover, as ever vigilant she tries to steal the fire behind my eyes. Years from now when old and bent I'll Rue the many days I've spent the deeds from which I can't repent as Fate's unwilling instrument. And peace, I fear it only lies behind the fire, behind the eyes.