A soldier cowered in a muddy hole,
The crack of weapon-fire tore the dark sky above,
and he felt hopeless because of the fight raging around him.
He cried to himself, feeling all was lost.
The barrel of his rifle, he put into his mouth,
ready to end the terror of this life.

Then an angel appeared and slapped the gun away,
"What are you doing my child?
Don't you know this battle is not lost?
And after, there are still more battles to fight.
The war will not go away because you do.
Do not let fear consume you,
for there are many depending on you,
and you must fight not only for them,
but for yourself as well."

The soldier turned to face the angel,
through his tear drenched eyes,
but the angel was gone.
Yet the battle was not,
so he picked up his rifle,  brushed off the mud,
and stood on shaky legs.
The fear was still inside, and it was all around,
but undeterred he clambered from his hole,
and rose to fight again.

Because the fear was strong,
but he was stronger still.