we digged our graves
deep below the ground

a stench rotten pit,
vermin and piled bodies,
waiting to be found  

we looked and somehow prayed under
the blue skies

when will this be over?

I write this letter
for the hero who kills
and who were killed
enlisted, constricted
with no door to find their way out

Western Front,
the only location we have on the map

go south
and wave the banner
with our weapons,
as if we are proud

we needed to move forward
and pull the trigger,
to bring home the red stain that will
never be washed from our clean hands

Home, we are welcomed and embraced
banners, and cheers
plaques of gold
for being one of the brave men

is it courageous; living in a dead body
that just happened to survived?

you fly with your wings
navigating in the air
with the control of your hands
wearing the four stripes

waving in the air, telling the world
that the time has come
and you are ready to soar up high

The wheels touched Charles de Gaulle
and found yourself in the night of Porto,
sipping red wine just beside the coast
that covers the face of a man from the fog of yesterday’s memory

The flight from Toronto and the girl who gave a beam from the Pearson’s gate, disappeared

you walked the cobbled street that lead you back to your hotel room, opening the balcony

you just couldn’t stop looking at the setting sun, and the birds that goes along the melody of a piano you played on the background.

sometimes, people could be harsh
or it is just you could be weak

for their is dullness in the sky
and cold breath of the air
the sound of ice and the crying wind
embraced my seclusion

Everything just came altogether and stir into a huge wave. ‘Do not show, do not speak.’ It’s funny how a drop of emotion could create a ripple to chaos.

The mind is teaching the heart to listen, and it did. For once, it did. ‘It happened again, I told you.’ The heart just lowered her head and the more she needed to tell everyone what she feels, the more oppressed it can get. ‘You created a cyclone and it will cause fear, let it rise and destruct your entirety.’ The tumultuous echo of the mind shaken the heart. ‘Be your own beautiful wreck, no one else will be there for you, but me. Let it go, do not be afraid, dear heart.’
  
   After all, she was right. It was a destruction that settled in tranquility.

‘Thank you’. For the first time, the heart said the words. She embraced the desolation and found a glint, in following her only friend.
  
   ‘Thank you for finally trusting me’, said the mind.