Mercenary
lone man stands on the hill
invisible demons picking at his will
reminding him of times he’s killed
showing him of the last time he will
lonely soldiers in unknown graves
left to rot for untold days
they fought not for honor or for hate
but for paychecks day to day
hoping, pleading, praying still
for the souls of those they killed
the old man stands his eyes are glazed
burning madness torches his veins
losing hold of all his ways
the demons show him of the kill
the demons give him back his will
his life was his to take
another lonely soldier unknown grave
Copyright © Garret Warren | Year Posted 2007
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