Life contracts and death is expected,
As in a season of autumn.
The soldier falls.

He does not become a three-days personage,
Imposing his separation,
Calling for pomp.

Death is absolute and without memorial,
As in a season of autumn,
When the wind stops,

When the wind stops and, over the heavens,
The clouds go, nevertheless,
In their direction.

Loneliness,
disguised in high heels,
tequila
and loud music.

The reason why,
he will never forget,
and
I will never remember,
our first kiss.

If I die in war zone,
Box me up and send me home.

Put my medals on my chest,
Tell my mum I did my best

Tell my dad not to bow,
He won't get tension from me now

Tell my brother to study perfectly,
Keys of my bike will be his permanently.

Tell my sister not to be upset,
Her bro will not raise after the sunset

And tell my love not to cry,
Cause I'm a soldier,
born to die

The barrel rested
between his eyes,
against his nose.

his eyes were closed.
he never dared to breathe.
he just listened.

with every shot,
earth shattering boom,
he winced.

the bodies of brothers
friends and strangers
surrounded him in bits.

and in one weak moment
of prayer,
of desperation,
he wanted his mother.

and the last thing he heard
was the shot meant for him.

I realized, in Christian thought
If I prayed as much as I wrote
As much as I swore

If I read the Bible
As much as I make innuendos
Fake inappropriate with friends

If I spoke to God
As much as I speak to friends
As much as I spend time on the internet
As much as I listened to music
As much as I filled up every moment with noise...

I'd be a saint.

But I'm not.
I don't pursue.
I don't wake up saying,
"Lord Jesus, help me help others.
Help me be a better man."

Sure there are weeks
Then there are weaks

I'm left clutching a beer
Glass of ***
*****
Shots of Tequila

Wishing I was a better man.
Hoping I can be a better man.
Yet, when push comes to shove,
I do nothing.

I love You Father.