My Ballad Form
THE BATTLE
He went to fight a war
Just a lad,days before ;
Dismayed by what he saw,
Never the same,anymore
He became a sad recluse,
Living backwards,his excuse;
Hope for him,had no use,
Trust co-twined,a fragile truce
In outlook,so morose
Thoughts,held to himself,
Emotions,buttoned close,
Private and lachrymose
Inside a voice he heard,
This thought,became a word;
Understanding's nativity
In his heart flew free
Turning back,he turned around
Perspective,he then found;
The tunnel had a light..
Another would lead his fight
re post inspired by Constance contest
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2016
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