Ronin 43
Old age and its wisdom but
mostly luck of the draw one inch to the right
or left of the arrow that kills a comrade beside me
To be just past the flames that explode and incinerate
those unfortunate enough to be in front of me
is luck
pure and simple at the cost of dreams and desires
Narrow piercing painful eyes that have seen so much
and wonder still why those who make war
seldom dress for battle
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