The Soldier's Death
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I smell the coppery sweet scent of blood,
a soldier lies dead, his face in the mud.
I mourn the soldier's death.
War is a putrid expanding abyss,
where finding food and water feels like bliss.
I mourn the soldier's death.
I fight a war I know cannot be won;
against all this carnage; I am but one.
I mourn the soldier's death.
God has left my heart and abandoned me,
it is clear; He is ignoring my plea.
I mourn the soldier's death.
As a child soldier, life's deplete of fun,
knowing the killing will never be done.
I mourn the soldier's death.
My mind's gone numb; I cannot shed a tear,
for there's nothing left within me but fear.
I mourn the soldier's death.
I wish I had wings to master the sky,
I'd leave in a heartbeat if I could fly.
I mourn the soldier's death.
My prospects look murky; nothing is clear,
I'll be lucky to see another year.
I mourn the soldier's death.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018
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