I know not of a soldier who can sleep,
On a night before he raises arms.

His steady breathing penetrates the silence

He can still feel the laughter in his throat,
The taste of bourbon on his breathe,
The remnants of tears in his eyes,

Everything is still now.

The flutter of thoughts dance around the room,
All eyes gaze at the ceiling,
But,
No one is present.

Wondering, Hoping, Praying..
Resolution, Anger, Fear..
Guilt, Shame, Acceptance..

Peace...

Isn't that all we really wanted?