Alone a soldier stands,
deaf in ringing ear,
from fire of the battle,
that happened far too near.

His jacket and his boots,
stained with blood and gore,
his very thoughts pain him,
the sight of all the horror.

The body lying at his feet,
the body his friend once manned,
lies broken, twisted, and lifeless,
on the fearsome land.

No time to mourn
The men untimely lost.
He must move on,
No matter the cost.

The soldier hears footsteps,
the enemies pounding the ground.
He knows his time is coming.
He knows that recurring sound.

The enemy is ‘round the wall,
the soldier’s courage rising.
As he prays to God for safety,
his memories are sizing.

He thinks of his home,
his country, his state.
He thinks of his family,
whom think of the date.

The date of his return,
the time when he would weep.
The day when life went on,
and the night he could sleep.

All these thoughts in his head,
pouring in like rain.
The enemy rounds the corner,
and sees the one yet to be slain.

The enemy loads his daunting rifle
and begins to take his aim.
The soldier takes hasty action,
both men doing the same.

The enemy fires,
the bullet whipping out like rope.
The lone soldier shouts in silence,
“I still hold onto hope!”

This hope continues to remain,
In every soldiers heart.
For a battle in a war,
is only just a part.