you started off as a young
strappy soldier
filled with life
fresh meat on the battlefield
you start fighting
and continue
the battle.
but the injuries you suffer begin to drag you down
it hurts
but you don't have time to heal.
you grip your rifle and aim
you hold onto a helmet for protection
and you keep going,
and going.
the war finally ends
and maybe you won,
maybe you lost.

you look around
at the bodies littered on the ground
of people you killed
of comrades you loved
at the once beautiful terrain
now rugged with trenches and craters
at the cities you couldn't protect
that stand as piles of rubble.

and then a deadly calm just settles over you
and you just
continue to exist,
but nothing seems to matter anymore
and you're just waiting
waiting for something that will never come

maybe it's for your body to heal
maybe for the friends you lost
maybe for the earth to stop smelling like gunpowder and blood
for it to grow back into the forests and cities you remember
and you're just

waiting.