**He went to war,
A flag came back.**
And with a last, dying breath,
He cried your name.
If one is to love unconditionally,
Without being loved back,
And without justification,
What is the point of love?
He has fallen past my reach,
With no where to turn.
Bullet wound turns a crimson red,
Shrapnel covers your face..
Vision gets dizzy,
Legs get heavy.
You fall.
You went to war, and a flag came back.
Mar 31, 2015
Mar 31, 2015 at 11:19 PM UTC
**He went to war,
A flag came back.**
And with a last, dying breath,
He cried your name.
If one is to love unconditionally,
Without being loved back,
And without justification,
What is the point of love?
He has fallen past my reach,
With no where to turn.
Bullet wound turns a crimson red,
Shrapnel covers your face..
Vision gets dizzy,
Legs get heavy.
You fall.
You went to war, and a flag came back.
