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KiKee May 2019
Brave little soldier who answered the call.
Brave little soldier,
Who must be bold and strong.
Brave little soldier,
You must carry on.
Brave little soldier,
Please come back to me.

A brave little soldier is who you are,
But don’t forget my brave little soldier.
It’s okay to let others help you.
You don’t always have to face it all alone.
Brave little soldier,
Let me catch some of your tears.
Brave little soldier,
I’m always here for you.

Brave little soldier,
Why must you fight if you don’t always win?
Brave little soldier,
Why do you go marching through hell and back again, asking for nothing in return?
Brave little soldier,
What’s it all for when those you are fighting for don’t appreciate it?
Marching through the valley filled with fear. You’re steps are sure and sturdy.
And you’re aim is straight and clear.

Brave little soldier,
Thro the enemy is stalking you just waiting for the ****.
Brave little soldier,
You’re like David slewed Galiath
You will claim this battle field.
Brave little soldier,
Must do what he can to keep us safe.
Brave little soldier,
Must take a stand for what he believes in.

You’re a brave little soldier,
A brave little soldier is who you are.
But don’t forget my brave little soldier.
It’s okay to let others help you.
You don’t always have to face it all alone.
Brave little soldier,
Let me catch some of your tears.
Brave little soldier,
I’m always here for you.

Brave little soldier,
Marching onward and standing tall.
Searching out the light of truth.
Knowing he did not start the war,
But it's a battle he cannot lose.
Brave little soldier,
Faith will be your armour.
Love will sword,
And my angels will be thy shield.
As you go off to defeat the enemy.
Brave little soldier,
Who he is so bold and strong.
Brave little soldier,
Who carry’s on when the battle is won.

You’re a brave little soldier,
A brave little soldier is who you are.
But don’t forget my brave little soldier.
It’s okay to let others help you.
You don’t always have to face it all alone.
Brave little soldier,
Let me catch some of your tears.
Brave little soldier,
I’m always here for you.
Originally this was/is a song written for a dear friend of mine. He is currently active duty with the military and he’s my brave “little soldier boy.”
Sayer Feb 2014
see Him run
this Roman Soldier
among the rocky roads past
blossoming green growing trees

it was One Vision
among many that deny
the movement in the bushes
of the Roman Soldier

young on the mountains
i was growing older in the valley
as He was
i walked quietly through the mist
to have a view the Roman Soldier

he told me some things,
this and that
but the sun polluted my eyes.
i said could it be
that i could see
the future in the eyes of the Roman Soldier

Beauty grew Cold as
he grew old
upon the bushes of comfort
(the Roman Soldier waits)

for who, he said
not quite so red as before
the Palace of Snow encompasses
the Roman Soldier

weapons on the back
and a shield on the front
encompasses my Vision
a Time and a place
can not erase
my Vision of the Roman Soldier

He touched my hair
with his cold fingers
and i could feel myself growing older
as i watched the Roman Soldier

he said nothing
and walked away on the rocky road
and he drew the Sun in the dirt
(i stood there, still waiting for the Roman Soldier)

Time does not fly
it attempts to
and falls
as it stares at the Roman Soldier

my Vision lead me
amongst the whispering trees
to see a man in need
behind him i saw
as He could see
a peaceful Roman Soldier

my body shook
in sight of the Roman Soldier

as the Vision grew dimmer,
my soul flew away
my body bending down
their bodies bending down
(I am the One) The Sun has Risen
I have risen
all hail the roman soldier
TheBrokenSoldier Oct 2014
Marching, Marching on.
That Broken Soldier
Unfix-able, Never to be intact again.
After to many years of fighting.

And yet still fighting,
That Broken Soldier.
Fighting the never ending fight.
Slowly falling, still, ever fighting.

But he is crumbling,
That Broken Soldier.
Falling apart by the day.
Left in an eternity of frailness.

Becoming less human everyday,
That Broken Soldier.
Solemnly stewing on his personal madness.
But that Soldier fights on.

Still fighting,
That Broken Soldier.
Fighting the never ending fight.
Slowly falling, still, ever fighting.

But his will wavers,
That Broken Soldier.
Is the fight worth fighting?
Worth the deathly blows thrown every day.

Soon none will be left,
of That Broken Soldier.
Soon the fight will be done.
Soon the last hurrah will sound.

The last Hurrah,
from That Broken Soldier.
Giving up the fight.
While letting go, his life.

For his life,
That Broken Solder,
Is his fight.
His fight soon lost.

But still fighting,
That Broken Soldier.
Fighting the ending fight.
Slowly falling, still, Not Ever Fighting.

Not Ever Fighting,
That Broken Soldier.
Not ever more.
The Fight is lost.
Lost is The Broken Soldier
Erin Lewis Nov 2012
Stand brave my soldier boy
For your home and country
Stand strong my soldier boy
For my weak heart

Sing loud my soldier boy
So I may hear you in the night
Listen hard my soldier boy
I sang a song for you

Shoot straight my soldier boy
Protect me from harm
But shoot not, my soldier boy
When it need not be done

Let your heart beat my soldier boy
To the beat of a thousand hearts
Let your heart beat, my soldier boy
For your loved ones at home

I miss you my soldier boy
For too long you have been gone
I miss you my soldier boy
For home does not feel like home

Come home my soldier boy
When the fighting is done
Come home my soldier boy
To hear our wedding bells' song
Jo Baldwin Oct 2015
In a station in the city a British soldier stood
Talking to the people there if the people would
Some just stared in hatred, and others turned in pain
And the lonely British soldier wished he was back home again

Come join the British Army! Said the posters in his town
See the world and have your fun come serve before the Crown
The jobs were hard to come by and he could not face the dole
So he took his country's shilling and enlisted on the roll

For there was no fear of fighting, the Empire long was lost
Just ten years in the army getting paid for being bossed
Then leave a man experienced a man who's made the grade
A medal and a pension some mem'ries and a trade

Then came the call to Ireland as the call had come before
Another ****** chapter in an endless civil war
The priests they stood on both sides the priests they stood behind
Another fight in Jesus name the blind against the blind

The soldier stood between them between the whistling stones
And then the broken bottles that led to broken bones
The petrol bombs that burnt his hands the nails that pierced his skin
And wished that he had stayed at home surrounded by his kin

The station filled with people the soldier soon was bored
But better in the station than where the people warred
The room filled up with mothers with daughters and with sons
Who stared with itchy fingers at the soldier and his gun

A yell of fear a screech of brakes the shattering of glass
The window of the station broke to let the package pass
A scream came from the mothers as they ran towards the door
Dragging children crying from the bomb upon the floor

The soldier stood and could not move his gun he could not use
He knew the bomb had seconds and not minutes on the fuse
He could not run to pick it up and throw it in the street
There were far too many people there too many running feet

Take cover! Yelled the soldier, Take cover for your lives
And the Irishmen threw down their young and stood before their wives
They turned towards the soldier their eyes alive with fear
For God's sake save our children or they'll end their short lives here

The soldier moved towards the bomb his stomach like a stone
Why was this his battle God why was he alone
He lay down on the package and he murmured one farewell
To those at home in England to those he loved so well

He saw the sights of summer felt the wind upon his brow
The young girls in the city parks how precious were they now
The soaring of the swallow the beauty of the swan
The music of the turning world so soon would it be gone

A muffled soft explosion and the room began to quake
The soldier blown across the floor his blood a crimson lake
They never heard him cry or shout they never heard him moan
And they turned their children's faces from the blood and from the bones

The crowd outside soon gathered and the ambulances came
To carry off the body of a pawn lost in the game
And the crowd they clapped and cheered and they sang their rebel songs
One soldier less to interfere where he did not belong

But will the children growing up learn at their mothers' knees
The story of the soldier who bought their liberty
Who used his youthful body as a means towards an end
Who gave his life to those who called him murderer not friend

By Harvey Andrews 1972
A true story. Posted in remembrance
JoyAndPain Feb 2021
Ten little soldier boys went out to dine;
One choked his little self and then there were nine.

Nine little soldier boys sat up very late;
One overslept himself and then there were eight.

Eight little soldier boys traveling in Devon;
One said he’d stay there and then there were seven.

Seven little soldier boys chopping up sticks;
One chopped himself in halves and then there were six.

Six little soldier boys playing with a hive;
A bumble bee stung one and then there were five.

Five little soldier boys going in for law;
One got in chancery and then there were four.

Four little soldier boys going out to sea;
A red herring swallowed one and then there were three.

Three little soldier boys walking in the zoo;
A big bear hugged one and then there were two.

Two little soldier boys sitting in the sun;
One got frizzled up and then there was one.

One little soldier boy left all alone;
He went and hanged himself and then there was none.
This is not an original poem. it was written by Frank Green in 1869
i found it in a book called "And then there were none." it is very good. i recomend it. if you want to know it is about 10 people who are stuck on an island called soldier island after being tricked into going. one by one there are all **** by a madman disquised as a guest. ther is a lot more to the story but i dont want to spoil it.
Nathaniel Munson Feb 2011
Always in danger, his life on the line
Death being ever present in this land
They sent him here to defend his country
Thus is the life of a US soldier

The native peoples in this dying land
despise his presence; his merciless work
Thus is the life of a US soldier

His woman leaves him lying frozen, and
forgotten on an Afghani mountain
Thus is the life of these US soldiers

Bullets unleashed by the Mujahideen
cause American blood to mix with the mud;
the same blood that covers the young medic’s hands
Thus is the life of a US soldier

The mortar lands only a few feet away
and the boy becomes apart from his legs
Thus is the life of a US soldier

While the sergeant is screaming
               Return Fire!
A private cries out for his distant mother
Thus is the life of a US soldier

Eventually their tour comes to an end, and
they board the plane that is pointed towards home
yet fifteen seats are empty; no soldiers
               will use these seats to return home this day.
Thus is the life of a US soldier

Having done their job, they can rest for now;
rest until they are sent back to the land
they have so rightly named “the nation of death”
Thus is the life of a US soldier

The plane soon lands; the men will stand, anxious
to lay eyes on their forgotten homeland
Thus is the life of a US soldier

He will exit the plane and she is waiting
but she won’t be able to recognize him
because the scars on his face disguise him;
his sunken eyes betray his identity
Thus is the life of a US soldier

Another warrior weeps as he hugs his wife
and she hands his daughter into his arms;
he holds his infant for the very first time
Thus is the life of a US soldier

Twelve months later the men will board that plane again
and leave the land they have sworn to defend
Thus is the life of a U.S. Army Soldier.
Copyright, Nate Munson, 2010
Soldier man fights
Soldier man dies
He talks, he dies
He runs, in shame he dies

Soldier man says he needs
Better guns
Arsenal is obsolete

You ask soldier man to fight
Sorry die,
To war is to die
So let soldier man fight
Before he dies
Not to die before he fights

Better guns to fight bombers?
To call the shots in power
They say it's hard
But for soldier man to die
Is nothing but piece of cake

Soldier leaves his wife and kids
The king sends his to paris,
Ask soldier man why he fights
I do it for the love of Mother land

Tears in my eyes for you
Fear in my heart for you
Soldier man fights
Soldier man dies
Someone tell me where we are

not all that close, not all that far

Marching feet and distant drums

but I can't see where they come from..

Baby Soldier with angry eyes

filling empty space with hate

for fat old men made fat on lies

it's not your fault..........it's just your fate

Baby soldier

Slaughter in the market place

You heard their cries, you saw their face

How then can you sleep at night?

How dare you say, "everything alright"

Baby soldiers with empty eyes

empty minds refilled with hate

for fat old men made fat on lies

while baby soldier licks the plate

Baby soldier

Dancing in a rain of fire

Just one more death for your empire

but baby soldier dies alone

his soul is gone his heart is stone

Baby soldier with empty eyes

filling empty space with hate

for fat old men made fat on lies

It's not your fault It's just your fate

Baby soldier

Baby soldier lay it down

the crops won't grow in blood soaked ground

but baby soldier cannot hear

above the sound of hate and fear

baby soldier with angry eyes

feeding on their hate and fear

while fat old men get fat on lies


everyone dies that's why you're here

Baby soldier

Someone tell me where we are

not all that close not all that far.
RLF RN Sep 2017
It's raining. Hard. Real Hard. In this train full of people. Some were sleeping, some were standing. While I was sitting on my own with my earphones on. It's raining. And I am thinking of what it takes to be a hero.

What is a hero? Have I ever met a hero of my own?

My idea has always been someone who would die for a country, or someone who would sacrifice for someone else. But does it really require dying and sacrificing? What about those who are still alive and living? Ah! The soldiers, indeed they are.

I know of a different and unique soldier. Whom I met up close on the 3rd of June 2017. He was young and beautiful, a little naive, and so were his dreams. He's a soldier for he's battling with his very own self in search of his own life's purpose, of his own self-worth, and of his own love. I believe that his battle is still on, but what makes him the soldier that he truly is, is by the little yet significant things he does for someone else.

My soldier is such a nice and gentle man. He is hardworking, persevering, and well determined to pursue his passions.  He always think of the safety of others and of how can he be of any help for them. And he would really get out of his way just to help you. Like accompanying somebody to the hospital just because she has a sick grandfather and is carrying a big ecobag full of adult diapers and underpads. Staying with someone inside the van because it's raining and he just can't allow that someone to lurk alone in the dark and to get wet by the rain.

He's the type who would text you all day to know of your whereabouts so he can wait for you to give you a free ride on your way home, everyday. And if he didn't get to ride you home, he'll stay up all night texting you to make sure that you arrived safe and sound, and only then he could sleep.

He will steal glances at you when you're not looking, and smile away if you ever caught him. He will annoy you and tease you until your stomach hurts while laughing and until you lovingly pinch him, and he will lovingly pull your hand for him to hold to make you feel loved. He will wrap his arms around your waist to pull you close so he can embrace you to make you feel like you are some kind of wonderful. And he will look at you as if you are the only person he sees at the moment.

He's the person to go to after a long tiring day to rant about how your egotistic workmate ruined your day, and he will calm you and tell you to just let it pass and think of him instead because he knows he can make you smile by the very thought of him. He's the person you can share your messy thoughts and whirlwind growing up story with, yet he still thinks you are an amazing woman and will never judge you. And he'll be your best friend. He'll even bring you himself to the hospital should you have your sudden asthma attack, and he'll be worried of you whenever you're sick and ill.

He will share his dreams with you, and he will need you to support and encourage him to go get them and to live his life to the fullest. And he will thank you for it and will send you plenty of kiss and monkey emojis and your favorite heart symbol to let you know that he appreciates you and will encourage you to do the same with your life. He will tell you how much he loves to eat chocolate bread alongside his meal and he will invite you for dinner because he wants to eat it with you and because he knows that you are hungry.

He will pout on you if he knew you've had more than 2 cups of coffee in a day and if you ever got yourself wet by the rain. He's jealous if you try to mention some other guy but will try his best to hide how he feels. That's him, he's not much of a talker but you know that his heart and actions speak otherwise.

He could be your partner-in-crime should you have the lazy urge to get a leave from work, or if you want to have some roundtrip joyride just because you don’t want to go home yet. He will tickle you from time to time, and will kiss you if he has the chance to. He will pick you up at 5am, then he'll make love to you all morning as he tells you that you are some **** and beautiful woman, then you'll have lunch together, and finish your extraordinary day watching movie at a cinema in a newly opened mall as you two try to bully that hardworking janitor mopping the floor.

He's a hundred fold stubborn, ironic, silly, childlike, selfish, foolish and impulsive at times. But you will love him even more because of them. And you are lucky enough that you were able to get to see those traits that makes him the imperfect yet the real man that he is. He will never ask you to wait for him, but because you are more stubborn than he is, you will still wait anyway. And he'll teach you what it's like to love somebody unconditionally because he will attempt to leave you and to bid you goodbye for several times, and you still want him, and love him anyway. He will give you the feels that you haven't felt for a long time. He will make you feel alive, more alive than ever before. He'll give you a sanctuary in his arms, and he'll be your peace and you know you don't have to ask for anything and for anyone else. And you will never want to loose him ever.

He will help you appreciate all the good things in life, every great thing there is, and you'll see that everything happens for a reason and that every thing is a blessing. You will experience what Carpe Diem means. He will complete your day in a way that no one else ever has. He will deepen your faith because you will end up staring at him while praying to The Lord, crying, thanking Him for bringing this man to your life and that He may never take him away from you and that He'll grant you a lifetime to spend together with. Because with him, everything just feel so right sooo **** right like all the stars out there and destiny itself are bringing you closer to each other and nothing could separate you apart and that together, nothing seems impossible.

This soldier will do everything to make you happy, and to see that smile on your face. He will never want to see you sad and even more to see you cry. But just like any other soldier, there's always a sacrifice that he had to make; and that is he will break your heart to let go of you and set you free because he thinks that you don't deserve him... Because he doesn't have the courage to tell you that he loves you, and he thinks that that's the way he can prove that he really do loves you.. That he'd rather be your friend, and you'd rather be his friend.

And that's the soldier whom I loved and adored so dearly. Yes, I have found one. He is the hero of my own. And because I love him, I have no other choice but to accept and live every day that I can only be his friend. But being his friend doesn't mean that I would stop loving him. For he just gave me a new beginning. The beginning of loving him from afar. The beginning of resting my faith with fate and of trusting the power of true love.

To love such hero has been one of the best privilege I could ever have my entire life. And I am always so proud of him. And the hardest part of loving my hero is to reciprocate the sacrifice he made for me, to let go..

It's not going to be easy, it will never be. For I will have to face my every day alone with a broken heart, longing for his presence. Because he was the hero who has made my heart whole again, and so he's the one who can tear it up again. But if it will make him happy, then maybe he's better off without me because I will never be enough. How can a hero possibly deserve some woman like me who just happened to love him in such unrequited way. Just some woman who made him her world. Just some woman whose own battle is to fight for his love.

But to me, my life will never be the same again because he will always be, my love, my friend, my soldier, and MY HERO. And I would still choose to be with him on both good and bad times all over again. I would still choose to have my heart broken by him if it's the only way for us to fall in love again. And I would fall in love with him all over and over again all the days of his life with every ounce of love left in me. And I will always love him and wait for the day that he shall finally win his battle that he doesn't have to search anymore, because (hopefully) he knew he had found him, he had found me, and he had found us. And we shall win every battle yet to come, together.

And so you see? A hero doesn't have to die to become one. Sometimes, he just needs to love. You just need to love him irrevocably in order to bring out the best out of the soldier in him.
Not a true story. Wrote this while riding the Metro Rail Transit on a stormy day, and yes, there are soldiers inside the train.
CR Apr 2013
there's this 1945 jacket that i have, this military-grade thing, and it has these white paint splatters on it from probably 1968, or at least i hope that's when they're from. i like to think this jacket that i have has seen the revolutions i missed, on the shoulders of a soldier that i knew in his white-haired days, whose nose is feminized on my face--it's too big, but it's his, and so i like it there--and who learned to walk a second time without flinching, whose goodness never needed flowered language, and whose goodness i take with me where i go. and then on the shoulders of a soldier's son whose legs hyperextend like mine, who falters unforgivably and breaks what he loves like i do, and who also loves wine and music, and who loves the best he can. there are all these pockets in this jacket that i have, and these rows of buttons that take forever to line up, and a little tiny hole in the elbow, and strings all at the wrist. i pull the strings like i pull up grass and i pick at what's healing and when i was a little girl i wiggled my baby teeth before they were ready to fall. i forget that 1945 was a long time ago and every string i pull is one string less for the next soldier, or soldier's son, or soldier's son's daughter who tries. one string less for the next revolution, one string less for the picturebook wedding, one string less for the girl-on-the-side. but this jacket that i have, it's still stoic, and it's still good. the soldier that i knew in his white hair is good still from where he is, and i can still see his blue eyes in mine, and i can still see that the soldier's son loves even though he falters, and so do i. i try to pull out fewer strings, and i try to be a soldier--a good soldier--i always try.
preservationman May 2018
Will I die in the battle?
I must remain strong in the saddle
Soldier’s thoughts having one mind
Will I still be alive?
The enemy could be a few feet away
As a Soldier, I cannot be a coward and go astray
I must stay alert and be focused
My Code of Honor
Concentration on the battle
Regardless of Bombs and Ammunition
Sunrise and Sundown a Soldier’s responsibility to stand
Salute at command
Yet a thought of Dead or Alive
It’s a Soldier’s commitment to strive
Tomorrow is fighting at the present
I am a Soldier and I must represent
Can’t turn back would be a resent

There had been times I would often cry
I felt one day I would be dead being a goodbye
But I was given the command to guard the front line
However, I was assured I was covered by the Lord
God instilled I wasn’t alone
Even during the time the Commander said to be at ease
I felt the comfort of God’s refreshing encouraging breeze
Stay the Course
God is the guiding light being the force

Battles will always have battles
But I can’t let anything make me rattle
Oh yes, stand and be firm while holding on to the saddle
Remain Strong
Help your fellow Conrad’s in getting along
I am on the battlefield where I belong

No matter what the circumstance
I have been given the chance
The enemy could one day attack on a prance
But it is the pride in being a soldier
One life but live it to the fullest in war
I am a Soldier
Bold and True
Commitment is my pursue
Enemies could be in my face
But as a Soldier
I have been trained to be Bold and Lean
I have been given the salute to proceed
I am the Soldier I stand
There is a battle in demand
Carry on Solder.
Dalton Bauder Oct 2012
the soldier knelt to fix his cap,
dug deep into trenches, he stopped.
amidst the shots, he reached for the map
if not in his pocket, it’s lost.
“it seems like we’ve been here for years”
the man beside him squawked.
“an hour seems like many days,
because we’ve gotten so lost.”

unsure of quite how to respond,
the soldier raised his brow
but as he was about to speak,
the man who’d spoken went down.

the soldier raised his head to see the great alsace-lorraine.
the war had raged for far too long, and so he contrived an escape.
he planned to sneak across the flank,
advance the trench on his own
but as he stood to make his break, his heart
sank quite gut-wrenchingly low.
he thought to himself in a humble tone,
“i can’t do this alone.”
although his intentions were clearly courageous,
his weakness truly had shown.

as lady luck would have her way,
the days kept withering by
as the soldier so fervent to capture this land
tried not to keep track of the time.
they advanced to the east, but to their dismay
the french would push them right back
and until a day they’d find a way,
the men had no way to attack.
a fateful storm rolled in one day,
a blanket of snow o’er the field
and the mood of both great war machines,
had slowly came to a yield.
the soldier, so tired of the weight of the war
climbed out, with a fire in his eye.
he raised his rifle high in the air
and cried “Deutschland über alles”

the soldier then fell onto his knees,
and raised his hands to the the sky
not seconds passed before the scream
as snow and french bullets did fly.
the soldier was struck right through his lung
and grasped his chest to breathe
but all could see his head was hung
as the soldier collapsed from his knees.
there was no escape, he said to himself
as the snow slowly blurred into light
and he passed away on the holy ground
and they never did win that fight.
This is the the heaviest allegory i've ever written.
Jonathan Nunez Mar 2018
Leaves from the vine,
Falling so slow.
Like fragile, tiny shells
Drifting in the foam.

Little soldier boy
Come marching home.
Brave soldier boy
Comes marching home.

These leaves did fall
From branches overgrown.
Drifting slowly down.
Resting all alone.

Little soldier boy
Taken from a home.
Forced to fight a war
That is not his own.

Leaves from the vine,
Falling so slow.
Like fragile, tiny shells
Drifting in the foam.

Little soldier boy
Come marching home.
Brave soldier boy
Comes marching home.

Leaves fell that night
When everything was silent.
No one dared to make a noise.

The little soldier boy
Found his way back home.
His mother wrapped her arms
Around his corpse.

Leaves from the vine,
Falling so slow.
Like fragile, tiny shells
Drifting in the foam.

Little soldier boy
Come marching home.
Brave soldier boy
Come marching home.
Johnson Oyeniran Mar 2023
The ballad of Nalum by Johnson Oyeniran



Under a Sakura tree on a warm and pleasant day,
Sat a battle hardened soldier, trying to stay awake.

''Arise, you must stay vigilant'' muttered the combatant,
''Or youll suffer the same fate as private Melicent.''

But her eyes grew weary then she fell into a deep sleep,
Before the enemy quietly slipped into their keep.

They were bested by ruthless devils more savage than beast,
All the while the sleeping soldier slumbered against a tree.

Luckily for her, she was mistaken for a body,
So they left her be and continued with their killing spree.

Time passed since the enemy took the army by surprise,
They outnumbered them nine to two and left not one alive.

When the enemy were done having the time of their lives,
They merrily marched home with plunder and kukri knives.

In the midst of her fallen comrades, the soldier woke up,
In a state of shock at what she had just seen, she choked up.

''This isnt a prank nor am i dreaming'' wailed the soldier,
''My...brothers and sisters in arms are six feet under!''

''Before long, their mangled corpses will be food for scavengers,
Then nature will bury whats left of these warriors.''

Alone and orderless, the soldier randomly went west,
A tragic choice she would ultimately come to regret.

Now up ahead, roughly half a kilometer away,
Was the entire enemy, camping beside a great lake.

''This can not be happening'', whispered the protagonist,
''How did I end up near the camp of these terrorist?!''

But before she could try to sneak away, she got captured,
Embarrassed by her mistake, the soldier felt so awkward.

After hours of abuse, she was brought before their leader,
He demanded to know how she survived their massacre.

However, the female soldier preferred to stay silent,
Which caused the commander to get extremely violent.

He ordered his guard to pluck out one of her amber eyes,
And use an urumi to render asunder her thighs.

She was no stranger to torture and refused make a sound,
Though she was covered in a pool of her blood in the ground.

Her hands were bound in bronze chains by the commanders order,
But little did he know he had made a deadly error.

Whilst a male guard lead her to a human sized cage at night
She slipped out her chains once she saw he was preoccupied.

Immediately, she wrapped her chains around the guards neck,
Fueled by rage, she choked him with her might till he dropped dead.

Nearby was a deep hole she used to conceal the dead guard,
But first, she took his uniform and cut off his male part.

Later, she blended in with her enemy in disguise,
Her plan was to destroy them all with a fatal device.

Now in an empty tent, she performed a ritual,
Her special blood was needed to make her wish possible.

Soon after,12 ghostly heads hovered out of her symbol,
They were ancient wish granters who were all ethereal.

''Your request?'' asked the 12 heads floating in the air,
''Fashion me a bomb'', begged the female soldier in despair.

''As you wish'', answered the 12 heads she summoned from heaven,
''With this, Ill avenge them'', declared the servicewoman.

Just then, word had quickly spread that the soldier had escaped,
So the enemy searched high and low for her in great haste.

Suddenly, they were bewitched by the soldier's melody,
One by one, they mindlessly marched to her tent, slowly.

Out stepped the female soldier standing firm and unafraid,
Wrapped around her body, was the bomb the 12 heads had made.

At the cost of her life, she ignited her lethal bomb,
And at last, the whole enemy both small and great, was gone.

Nalum, Nalum the brave and mighty female warrior!
May your story live on within my poem forever!
chea Aug 2020
Her world was a battlefield, filled with demons and battles unknown. Her heart, a ransacked base, robbed of love and worth, filled with footprints of false soldiers who abandoned and ridiculed her. With one war over, her heart was preparing for another. She was surprised to see this wandering soldier, one she never really expected, who didn’t seem to be like the rest and offered her happiness. The soldier changed her melancholic life and turned it into bliss; he gave her a new beginning and made her believe that promises were made to be kept.

She showed him the different blades that cut her, the swords that scarred her skin, and the scars that she hid. The wars she lost, the bullets that gave her wounds, and the battles she had to face alone. She felt a different kind of happiness and for the first time in her life, she believed that someone would stay and see her entirety.

She was surprised to see that her world became him and she believed that she was his. He looked at her with pity and set a camp on her base, and said that he was at home with her. He said he was there to stay and wouldn’t leave her astray. It was new for her, how she didn’t seem to hurt anymore.

She was terrified that she didn’t feel afraid and she felt as if she’d never had to face anything alone. Her heart began to beat better as the soldier stayed by her side. He was there to stay beside her as her wounds began to heal. He felt like home and he felt safe, but then the soldier woke up one day and realized he wanted more, her base wasn’t enough, “I’m tired”, is what he’d say. His words pierced through her soul like a dagger with the sharpest blade. She was afraid he’d leave, ”I’m sorry”, were the words that she’d always say. She never really understood how the soldier changed.

She thought that if the soldier hated her scars, why did he leave some on her heart? The soldier cast the girl’s blades against her and with everything he‘s got. The girl was left paralyzed, lying on the ground. Now with scars too deep, she could no longer escape. As the soldier began to leave her side, death consumed her inside, as she could no longer feel her heart, the soldier opened his deceiving mouth, looking at her lifeless body and said: “There’s something I’ve got to do, a lot of things I have to chase, but one thing’s for sure, all I know is that I can’t stay.”
Ameya Deshpande Jun 2020
When I was hurt & lost someone dear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier

When the going got tough with nothing to gear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier

when the faith felt small & doubts really bigger
I did go on because I am a foot soldier

When the sky was dark & nothing seemed near
I did go on because I am a foot soldier

when the wounds were hurting with no immediate cure
I did go on because I am a foot soldier

when the hopes were grim & nothing was clear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier

When storms came hard striking some fear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier

I fought & fought & I fought till the victory was sure
Yes, I could do it because I am a foot soldier
George Nsikak Oct 2016
This is dedicated to the millions who died in the Biafra - Nigeria civil war

Counting the losses
Of my people at dawn
Breaking the curses
Of no wholly source
I sought to wage war
Without funds and money
I thought to secede
From a nation strong and many
I was full of envy for vain minorities
I am an educated soldier
Of an eastern defunct border

Proclaiming Biafra
Was so big an agenda
Building militias
To **** and to tether
My opposed tribal brothers
And the critics of my powers
I denied much on media
All that hid in my fingers
My plans I held higher
The proclamation of Biafra
I am an educated soldier
Of an eastern defunct border

Visible to the blind
Were were ready for a fight
Audible to the deaf
Huge price of war to pay
Hausas killed in numbers
By my igbo sons and daughters
yorubas were driven without boots
by my fellow Biafran youths
Ibibios were suspicious
So were Urhobos, Itsekiris and Ijaws
Enmity was at its peak
So high that none could breach
All these were my agenda
My services to Biafra
Was so good for me to render

On May 30th 1967
Was just like a fable
I declared in the open
Without even a wobble
The state of Biafra
Almost complete; an agenda
An anthem was composed
Flag and currency; none could oppose
The heat of the tension
Is such I couldn't mention
The height of jubilation
Not all did it favor
There was sorrow in the land
This, I cared not apart
I was a symbol in the world
For the havoc I did cause
I am an educated soldier
Of an eastern defunct border

The war began
With no money at hand
We fought with pride
With pains in our hands
We fought with might
Defending our father's land
We died in mass
Numbers of air attacks
We killed civilians
Of the tribes against our plan
We'd shoot in the heart
Every oppose we'd catch
Nigerians were too strong
but we swore we'd burn
I saw no flaw
In the havoc I did cause
I am an educated soldier
Of an eastern defunct border

Hunger and thirst
Was order of the day
Sorrow was a pest
and death had no end
Too many burdens to bear
The pains of war to pay
We ran out of guns
Bullets, grenades, even bombs
We had but matchets
Arrows, stones and spears
But We faced an army
Of full artillery
Our tragedy had no end
Even God couldn't help
So our homicide was cast
And We became fossils at last
Let those who seek war; stop and think
The pains of it;higher than that of peace
So I e'caped in a copter
Leaving my people to suffer
So on exile I did ponder
while millions died in yonder
I am an educated soldier
Of an eastern defunct border

I write from the grave
From the hell of my pains
I was that educated soldier
Who took you to battle borders
And ran, leaving you to suffer
I was that educated soldier
Of an eastern defunct border.
Cynthia Jean May 2016
It is the Soldier, not the minister
Who has given us freedom of religion.

It is the Soldier, not the reporter
Who has given us freedom of the press.

It is the Soldier, not the poet
Who has given us freedom of speech.

It is the Soldier, not the campus organizer
Who has given us freedom to protest.

It is the Soldier, not the lawyer
Who has given us the right to a fair trial.

It is the Soldier, not the politician
Who has given us the right to vote.

It is the Soldier who salutes the flag,
Who serves beneath the flag,
And whose coffin is draped by the flag,
Who allows the protester to burn the flag.

Charles Michael Province, U.S. Army, wrote the poem
remember
oh dear soldier boy
when will you come home
play with a toy
little soldier boy
you've forgotten haven't you?

put down your gun
learn how to laugh
forget about war
the fields are far away
and all that's left to say
is run with me soldier boy

have you forgotten your mother's face?
have you forgotten how to smile?
have you not learned how to love
or sigh to the sky far up above

put down your bayonet
forget about all the blood
lay here in the grass
not in the mud
hear the pretty singing
hear church bells a'ringing
don't forget me soldier boy

and promise to come traipsing
back over the hills
to your mother dear

o, little soldier boy
have you forgotten how to dream?
how to laugh and smile?
dont forget me little soldier boy
I'll be waiting on this hill always

don't forget me soldier boy
If you danced from midnight
to six A.M. who would understand?

The runaway boy
who chucks it all
to live on the Boston Common
on speed and saltines,
******* in the duck pond,
rapping with the street priest,
trading talk like blows,
another missing person,
would understand.

The paralytic's wife
who takes her love to town,
sitting on the bar stool,
downing stingers and peanuts,
singing "That ole Ace down in the hole,"
would understand.

The passengers
from Boston to Paris
watching the movie with dawn
coming up like statues of honey,
having partaken of champagne and steak
while the world turned like a toy globe,
those murderers of the nightgown
would understand.

The amnesiac
who tunes into a new neighborhood,
having misplaced the past,
having thrown out someone else's
credit cards and monogrammed watch,
would understand.

The drunken poet
(a genius by daylight)
who places long-distance calls
at three A.M. and then lets you sit
holding the phone while he vomits
(he calls it "The Night of the Long Knives")
getting his kicks out of the death call,
would understand.

The insomniac
listening to his heart
thumping like a June bug,
listening on his transistor
to Long John Nebel arguing from New York,
lying on his bed like a stone table,
would understand.

The night nurse
with her eyes slit like Venetian blinds,
she of the tubes and the plasma,
listening to the heart monitor,
the death cricket bleeping,
she who calls you "we"
and keeps vigil like a ballistic missile,
would understand.

Once
this king had twelve daughters,
each more beautiful than the other.
They slept together, bed by bed
in a kind of girls' dormitory.
At night the king locked and bolted the door
. How could they possibly escape?
Yet each morning their shoes
were danced to pieces.
Each was as worn as an old jockstrap.
The king sent out a proclamation
that anyone who could discover
where the princesses did their dancing
could take his pick of the litter.
However there was a catch.
If he failed, he would pay with his life.
Well, so it goes.

Many princes tried,
each sitting outside the dormitory,
the door ajar so he could observe
what enchantment came over the shoes.
But each time the twelve dancing princesses
gave the snoopy man a Mickey Finn
and so he was beheaded.
****! Like a basketball.

It so happened that a poor soldier
heard about these strange goings on
and decided to give it a try.
On his way to the castle
he met an old old woman.
Age, for a change, was of some use.
She wasn't stuffed in a nursing home.
She told him not to drink a drop of wine
and gave him a cloak that would make
him invisible when the right time came.
And thus he sat outside the dorm.
The oldest princess brought him some wine
but he fastened a sponge beneath his chin,
looking the opposite of Andy Gump.

The sponge soaked up the wine,
and thus he stayed awake.
He feigned sleep however
and the princesses sprang out of their beds
and fussed around like a Miss America Contest.
Then the eldest went to her bed
and knocked upon it and it sank into the earth.
They descended down the opening
one after the other. They crafty soldier
put on his invisisble cloak and followed.
Yikes, said the youngest daughter,
something just stepped on my dress.
But the oldest thought it just a nail.

Next stood an avenue of trees,
each leaf make of sterling silver.
The soldier took a leaf for proof.
The youngest heard the branch break
and said, Oof! Who goes there?
But the oldest said, Those are
the royal trumpets playing triumphantly.
The next trees were made of diamonds.
He took one that flickered like Tinkerbell
and the youngest said: Wait up! He is here!
But the oldest said: Trumpets, my dear.

Next they came to a lake where lay
twelve boats with twelve enchanted princes
waiting to row them to the underground castle.
The soldier sat in the youngest's boat
and the boat was as heavy as if an icebox
had been added but the prince did not suspect.

Next came the ball where the shoes did duty.
The princesses danced like taxi girls at Roseland
as if those tickets would run right out.
They were painted in kisses with their secret hair
and though the soldier drank from their cups
they drank down their youth with nary a thought.

Cruets of champagne and cups full of rubies.
They danced until morning and the sun came up
naked and angry and so they returned
by the same strange route. The soldier
went forward through the dormitory and into
his waiting chair to feign his druggy sleep.
That morning the soldier, his eyes fiery
like blood in a wound, his purpose brutal
as if facing a battle, hurried with his answer
as if to the Sphinx. The shoes! The shoes!
The soldier told. He brought forth
the silver leaf, the diamond the size of a plum.

He had won. The dancing shoes would dance
no more. The princesses were torn from
their night life like a baby from its pacifier.
Because he was old he picked the eldest.
At the wedding the princesses averted their eyes
and sagged like old sweatshirts.
Now the runaways would run no more and never
again would their hair be tangled into diamonds,
never again their shoes worn down to a laugh,
never the bed falling down into purgatory
to let them climb in after
with their Lucifer kicking.
Charise Clarke Jun 2010
Limbs littered the earth, her negligee no longer lay in his soldier’s
world; he would do anything to smell her perfume
once more. What day was it? Ahhh…Monday,
the perfect first date, a moon-
lit walk on a beach. He felt like a train
about to crash and nobody was dancing.  

She felt alien alone in their home. Dancing
was impossible and she stared at the photo, a soldier’s
face, not his own. Limbo was a train
journey that never ended. Billboards advertising perfume
and the never ending sun, the never ending moon.
The name of the days changed but Monday

was no different from Tuesday or last Monday.
She wondered if disabled people thought dancing
ridiculous. He could return disabled…the moon
was full tonight, she wondered if he in his soldier’s
uniform would be admiring it remembering her perfume
and not side stepping dead bodies feeling like a train

wreck. How many poor driver’s of trains
were haunted by suicides, faces looming out, the Monday
blues? And some women will never afford perfume
and would never be taken out dancing,
it did not console her. She was one of thousands of soldier’s
wives all gazing wistfully at the unhelpful moon.

She dreams of werewolves howling at the moon,
of him passing through a dark forest on a train
coming back to her, having thrown his soldier’s
gun, stamped in the mud, rejected. But she was the gun, Monday
and no letter had come and her nerves were dancing,
she knocked over her most expensive bottle of perfume.





He was dead, she would never replace the perfume.
She would smash bottles sticking her tongue out at the moon
throwing herself around in life, dancing
like a boat in a storm, occasionally consider suicide by train
but she would never do it. Saturday, Sunday, Monday
all days trooped past like the heavy march of a soldier.

The word soldier stank of cheap perfume and
everything was mundane especially the moon.
People hurry her by like late trains, only a few whirl past dancing.
Paul Roberts Feb 2011
On the table , over there by the woven chair,
a box of prize possesions still line up there.
Left unattended, as if in a rush...
something is now missing...something he used to touch.

Let us flip the page of time, perhapes a few days back.
Count the items that were in the box, perhapes something
is a lack.
A ball of string, so carefully rolled, a coin with faded date.
A photo of a lovely girl and a flag of the United States.
A ring  and then a whisp of hair, human one would hope
and then a little soldier of tin , the hero of the show.
This tin soldier had seen the world, in the hands of the holder.
Seen him slip and fall, civilian and a soldier.
Listens to him as he thinks. Stands by as he cried.
Looked away when words were cursed, felt warm when he saw him smile.
The night was all as usual, the holder had been gone for a few days.
He entered ,sat down at the chair, all seemed normal one would say.
First came out the flag, quite moments would follow that.
Then the photo, ring and hair, normally the holder would sit back.
This time the holder knelt by the fire and the tin soldier strained to see,
the holder cried more then usual, the tin soldier wondered what could it be.
Then came a string of curses and a rush of air,
the tin soldier was caught up in the moment, quite unprepared.
As he layed to close to the flames, he felt his time draw near.....
the final moments as he left he could see the holder clear......

So now the room is empty. The table left untouched.
The holder left and never returned, he had lost all so much.
Tin soldiers they say are a dime a dozen, funny, kind of like us.
It's how we are lined up for the play, what we see or touch... the tin man melts away...we return to dust.
Paul Roberts: Fade
Mike Essig Aug 2015
Written by Arlo Guthrie and Pete Seeger; adapted by Mike Essig.


Halfway around the world tonight
In a strange and foreign land
A soldier packs his memories
As he leaves Afghanistan

And back home, they don't know too much
There was just no way to tell
You know* you had to be there
To know that war was hell

And there won't be any victory parades
For those that's coming back
They'll fly them in at midnight
And unload the body sacks

And the living will be walking down
A long and lonely road
Because nobody seems to care these days
When a soldier makes it home

Somewhere in America tonight
In this strange and foreign land
A soldier unpacks memories
That he saved from Vietnam

They said it wasn't easy
Just another job, well done
Then the government in Saigon fell
To the sounds of rebel guns


And the faces of the comrades
Who were blown out of the sky
Leaves you bitter and disgusted
That they didn't have to die

The old men who planned that war
You know they all died safe in bed
With none of their rich and privileged sons
Ending up torn or dead


Back home they didn't know too much
There was just no way to tell
You know you had to be there
to know that war was hell

And there wasn't any big parades
For those that made it back
They flew them home in secret
and told them to make tracks

And the living were left walking down
A long and lonely road
Because nobody seemed to care back then
When a soldier made it home

The night is coming quickly
And the stars are on their way
As I stare into the evening
Looking for the words to say

That I saw the lonely soldier
Just a boy that's far from home
And I saw that I was just like him
While upon this earth I roam

And there may not be any big parades
If I ever make it back
As I come home under cover
To a world that can't keep track

Of the heroes who have fallen
Let alone the ones who roam
Guess that's why nobody seems to care
When a soldier makes it home
Arlo Guthrie and Pete Seeger wrote this poem long ago. All I did was adapt and update it. The words in italics are mine. You can hear the original on Youtube. Honestly, I think my version is better or at least more current.
I am not just a person in
a uniform, I am a Soldier.
Every time I arise,  I obey;
Each time she calls, I step up
To defend her freedom,
To restore her home of peace
I arise,  I obey, I soldier on.

Into the forest of her terrors
I charge, not without fear for that
which is mine but with love and strength
and faith, I March. Defending the labour
of heroes past, I march; fighting
for dreams of her children bright-
the  future she deserves.

I arise, I obey, I soldier on.
In the army I serve Nigeria,  my
Country with heart, might and spine.
Though a thousand times I have fallen,
bits and pieces of me, lost to her darkness,
still I obey, knowing it may be my last. I arise,
leaving my family and friends behind.

I obey your call of duty. My service and loyalty
I pack on with my combat gear, that you may live
to see yet another day, to feel yet another ray of
light on your face. I am not just a person in a uniform.
I am your Soldier,  the Nigerian Soldier,
Ambushed and slaughtered in 40s, 70s and 100
for lack of resources.

Bless me O Nigeria as I arise and obey
Send me to your enemies with arsenals
and might to match the fire in my eyes.
As opposed to the massacres of me, let
the headlines read of our gallant victory
For my victory is yours over those who
threaten our unity.

I am not just a person in a uniform.
I am your Soldier
Do not let my bravery dissipate to stupidity
For I rise,  I obey,  I soldier on
still.

©Belema .S.  Ekine
©belemascribbles
dedicated to all the brave Nigerian soldiers fighting the war against insurgency and terrorism. To those who we have lost and those still fighting for a better Nigeria.
Erin Perkins Mar 2014
21
A lovely young woman with a child at her feet
Opened her door and began to weep
The commander and the chaplain delivered the news
She was now a widow,a family of two

Twenty-one bullets explode into the sky
Fighting for freedom a soldier has died
He leaves behind his wife and his son
A soldier laid to rest at the age of twenty-one

A hero remembered as courageous and strong
Lost his life in a land that he did not belong
He served his country from an ocean away
Earning a medal of honor for his actions that day

And twenty-one bullets explode into the sky
Fighting for freedom a soldier has died
He leaves behind his wife and his son
A soldier laid to rest at the age
of twenty-one

Twenty-One

With tears in their eyes the ceremony begins
As the colors are folded by soldiers and friends
He now rests in peace in a land of his own
In a pine wooden box the young soldier came home

Now twenty-one bullets explode into the sky
Fighting for freedom a soldier has died
He leaves behind his wife and his son
A soldier laid to rest at the age

Yeah twenty-one bullets explode into the sky
Fighting for freedom a soldier has died
He leaves behind his wife and his son
A soldier laid to rest at the age

of twenty-one twenty-one

©
{in reference to the 3 volley}
Alli Dalzell Mar 2013
He was an American soldier
He stood for the red white and the blue .
He carried a a tremendous secret
that nobody but him knew.

He was an american soldier
the war he fought was inside his head
The needle was the gun and
the heroine was the lead

He was an American soldier
happiness a camouflage he hid behind so well
His lonely heart his fox hole
His personal trench of hell

He was an American soldier
A symbol of the free and the brave
A prisoner of his addiction
His life only his to save

He was an American soldier
Who's life came to an end
He was an American soldier
I called him my best friend .
I was watching as the parade passed by
All the soldiers and the tanks
I figured that in some small way
I must go tell them "Thanks"

I worked my way throughout the crowd
To where the parade would end
And hopefully my small  "thanks"
Would get me a new friend

I watched as people finished
I got my words straight in my head
I walked up to a soldier
And this is what he said...

I am not a hero
Just a soldier, nothing more
I'm just doing my duty
As so many have before

I'm a soldier, not a hero
I am just the same as you
I'm just doing my duty
As I know that you would too

I shook his hand and said my "Thanks"
Then I moved away, unnerved
I had to tell him more...
Tell him that I'm glad he served

I turned and at that moment
I saw, a glint, a little sheen
Right above this mans left boot
Where his shin bone should have been

I went back on my mission
I had my words there in my head
He smiled, pulled his pant leg down
And this is what he said...

I am not a hero
Just a soldier, nothing more
I'm just doing my duty
As so many have before

I'm a soldier, not a hero
I am just the same as you
I'm just doing my duty
As I know that you would too

I shook his hand and smiled
Left him standing all alone
With a leg of polished metal
Where once before was bone

To me, he is a hero
And he will be 'till he's dead
I remember how he cut me off
And I remember what he said....

I am not a hero
Just a soldier, nothing more
I'm just doing my duty
As so many have before

I'm a soldier, not a hero
I am just the same as you
I'm just doing my duty
As I know that you would too
The soldier cleaned his gun in anticipation
for the battle he would be fighting. His mind

was focused on his job. His heart was centred
on his illusions. Lonely soldier in a uniform

without a mind of his own. His officers
received their orders from somewhere else,

from men and women who were fighting a
war of greed. Death was nothing more than

a statistic which would be tabulated and
toned down for the media. Not good to let

the world know the actual cost of human
life in the adventure. A tear fell from his

eyes at the thought of how many men he
had killed. He remembered sitting in his kitchen

talking to his wife and making plans for
the future. That was until somebody

somewhere far away had determined
the future was not his to plan. So he worked

at his task in mind of constant wonder at
the waste he was trained to create. His

entire purpose in life was to **** and so he
killed as best he could. The faces of the

enemy reminded him of himself. Other men
who had sat at home with their wives talking

about their futures together. Such a waste of
young ambition by the old men and women who

sat comfortable in the governments of life.
Lonely soldier surrounded by his comrades

all of whom equally trained to hate and ****.
Ah, but the bands would play and the magic

of hero dust would fall upon the shoulders
of the men at arms. How brave they would

be in the battle with their blood splattered
all over their clean uniforms. The soldier knew

he fought for a cause but it was odd that
the cause was never quite explained, save

for speeches on freedom and destruction
and illusions of happiness when the enemy

were all dead. Lonely soldier was startled by
an enemy as he cleaned his gun. The two

men glared at one another wondering who
would die first. Soldier and enemy came to

a major decision. Each stripped off their clothes
and stood naked in front of one another.

Two naked men. Without their uniforms.
Now which of them was the enemy?
Cynthia Barton Aug 2010
As the last star of the night slowly faded away,
          He was quiet but still kept that look of pain and fear
             How will I ever get him cared for if I keep him in this place?
          He should have smiles,laughter,out running with his peers.
             It was then that I knew exactly what I had to do.
           I sat crying looking at your big blue eyes,but I have
             no choice I must take care of you.
          This would not be an easy thing to do,but what mattered
            was that its the best thing to do.
          Now im handing you this letter to send you on your way
             and now I have some words that I really need to say.
           Remember,my little soldier you are tough and very strong
             You are my son so combined in blood and heart,that will
           keep us from growing too far apart.With you in my heart my
             angel is near,so dont worry for me i will be safe right here.
           Just know I will always love you,and that means no more fear
              So when your older or feel you need me just look right here.
            The bond between us is the first place you will want to start
                The rest wont be to hard if you keep me in your heart.
              You are only 4 years old and a long road awaits.
                 After hearing that he took the strangers hand and disapeared
                into the night. The years still go by as I think of you with tears in my eyes
              My soldier during the days,my angel with me at night,then my son all the time.                                                                                                                                 Many years have passed my poor house has fallen  I never saw it coming so all I can do is frown                                                                                                                                             As I reached for my towel it was  awfully hot,a glimpse from the corner of my eye of a stranger was caught.
       In one hand he put a piece of paper,and in the other an envelope.
   And on the single sheet of paper this is what was said,we want to help you
       make things better help you move about,here is a key,there is an address inside
      you deserve so much better so let go of your pride.I dont see the one where
           the letter arrived but a truck pulled up with movers saying please step aside.
     I kept it up as long as I could,just as I told my little soldier I would.
          There seems to be small houses upon a hilltop,they looked nice and quiet.
   I made it to the address which seemed to  be so empty and so still.I got out
            my little key and was thinking this would be right.I pushed hard and opened the door
         I couldn't move for a min my soldier was in the floor.All I could do was burst into sobbing  tears,we found each other after all these years.                                    Please dont cry mamma,dry the tears from your eyes.                                                 As your soldier I am giving you the home you so badly need.                                                                                                                                          I joined the army still a  child missing you every night,                                                  but as your angel I kept it safe so I won every fight.                                                                                                                                          So here we are  together your son, soldier and your angel,we are all here now and will always be,                                                                                                                   never again parting from each other,                      
       because I am your son and you are my mother........


                                                                                                                         2:50 PM 4/27/2008
Kate Little Apr 2010
The job is done
And it has been done well
The soldier is now home
But he lives in hell

He lives with pain
Pain without end
He begs for relief
But the pain does not bend

He marches on
His head is lowered
Through brutal times
He continues forward

A son he has lost
Through tragic circumstance
He visits him often
In memory and chance

He feels guilt and shame
And a pain he cannot abide
But this was not his doing
And his son walks by his side

The pain without end
Leaves him crippled and weak
He pleads for release
And forgiveness he seeks

The soldier stayed at his post
He has held it for so long
He is tired now
And struggles to stay strong

The soldier searches
And he prays
For the secret to life
For the reason to stay

He calls for the answer
He is so weary
His body is broken
And to die seems easy

A wife now fights
She fights for her land
And she fights for her husband
She is making her stand

The soldier marches onward
His country has been served
But he holds his post for family
And life must be preserved

March on brave soldier
For the path is in front of you
Fight on dear soldier
The secret is those closest to you
Written for my friend, Scylla the Rock

Copyright © 2010
Words by K A Little
Geraldine Taylor Oct 2017
Change

Verse 1
It starts right deep inside of me, a true grasp on identity
The present moment is the place to be, regardless of who's watching me
It’s plain to see, comprehensively, no real gain comes easily
Whether to the left or right of me, time in motion, truly free
To persevere is the truest reward, ride this train be truly on board
This right here to truly afford, come together, one accord
A single mind retrain able, good grades are attainable
Accomplish the impossible, you can be unstoppable
A single step to take, of directions moving on
Keep it moving in forward motion, articulate my song
With an aim of harmony, we can but soldier on
We must create a place, with a feeling to belong

Let’s begin and start a new change
For in time we truly can change, subtle change, ample change, some folks just ain’t trying to change
Aim real high towards the change
Constant force, there’s always change
Release control with all the change
For yes in time we can truly change
Smaller change, greater change
So much here to rearrange
New concepts are hardly strange
Stand united welcome change
Restoration welcome change
Conservation bring the change
Re-establish forward change
For yes in time we will truly change

There are challenges that are facing me, complex to simplicity
Teams move forward socially, share discussions vocally
To stand as one, it’s just begun
Separation can’t become
A team with victory truly won
A united cause, brought as one
Determination is the real deal, certified replacing the seal
Energy the people can feel
A new beginning, fresh appeal
A brand new chapter practical
Solutions that are workable
Greatness is achievable
Concepts are conceivable
A new journey to take, whether short or whether long
Keep on moving forward, embracing a new song
With amicability, we all will progress on
Let’s create a place, with a feeling to belong

Let’s begin and start a new change
For in time we truly can change, subtle change, ample change, some folks just ain’t trying to change
Aim real high towards the change
Constant force, there’s always change
Release control with all the change
For yes in time we can truly change
Smaller change, greater change
So much here to rearrange
New concepts are hardly strange
Stand united welcome change
Restoration welcome change
Conservation bring the change
Re-establish forward change
For yes in time we will truly change

Chorus
There is ever present change, many thoughts to rearrange
Together we can change the world, let’s rewrite the page
There are many forms of strong, yet we all must soldier on
Together as one, together as one
For each and every fight, is a chance to so unite
Every lesson in the wrong, it can be rendered right
There is opportunity, be the change you want to see
Let’s set ourselves free, let’s set ourselves free
In time, beyond the impossible
Breaking through every obstacle
By faith from the intangible
Objects, they are exchangeable
Yet lives are irreplaceable
Real change is attainable

Verse 2
To offer forth a helping hand, notions yet to understand
To be welcomed in a foreign land, disharmony is sinking sand
It’s clear to see, comprehensively, operate more tactfully
With wisdom understandably, let the innocent be truly free
A greater love that can’t be defined, to comprehend the passage of time
Appreciation truly is mine, reverence beyond the sky
Of nature undeniable, progress transformational
Advancing the responsible, of wonderment sensational
A single step to take, cultivated going strong
Keep it moving in forward motion, can we all just get along
With advancing harmony, on a road that may be long
Let’s now create a place, with a feeling to belong

Let’s begin and start a new change
For in time we truly can change, subtle change, ample change, some folks just ain’t trying to change
Aim real high towards the change
Constant force, there’s always change
Release control with all the change
For yes in time we can truly change
Smaller change, greater change
So much here to rearrange
New concepts are hardly strange
Stand united welcome change
Restoration welcome change
Conservation bring the change
Re-establish forward change
For yes in time we will truly change

Advancing with a point of view, discernment of what’s really true
Comprehension of what’s true for you, of new horizons to ensue
With a faculty of proficiency, movements of efficiency
With complex capability, time in motion, skillfully
Experience that can be applied, universal always onside
Letting go of innermost pride
Truthfulness, no need to hide
Application practical, let your goals be reachable
In him all things possible, passionately powerful
With awareness to awake, with weakness rendered strong
Keep moving in forward motion, articulate my song
With all tranquillity, uncover what is wrong
We can now create a place, with a feeling to belong

Let’s begin and start a new change
For in time we truly can change, subtle change, ample change, some folks just ain’t trying to change
Aim real high towards the change
Constant force, there’s always change
Release control with all the change
For yes in time we can truly change
Smaller change, greater change
So much here to rearrange
New concepts are hardly strange
Stand united welcome change
Restoration welcome change
Conservation bring the change
Re-establish forward change
For yes in time we will truly change

Chorus
There is ever present change, many thoughts to rearrange
Together we can change the world, let’s rewrite the page
There are many forms of strong, yet we all must soldier on
Together as one, together as one
For each and every fight, is a chance to so unite
Every lesson in the wrong, it can be rendered right
There is opportunity, be the change you want to see
Let’s set ourselves free, let’s set ourselves free
In time, beyond the impossible
Breaking through every obstacle
By faith from the intangible
Objects, they are exchangeable
Yet lives are irreplaceable
Real change is attainable

Verse 3
Let actions be effectual, real change be perpetual
Creative with the intellectual, let guidance be instructional
Be rational, co-operational, shared ideas are practical
Measuring the mathematical, alignment formational
Aiming high reach for the sky
Given standards you can defy
With courage here the aim is to try
Moving forward, mystify
Far from the undesirable, feelings unreliable
Testing the improbable, reality is changeable
A bolder step to take, of directions moving strong
You can always go beyond the place that you came from
With realised clarity, we gain sense of the wrong
Let’s now create a place, where we can all belong

Let’s begin and start a new change
For in time we truly can change, subtle change, ample change, some folks just ain’t trying to change
Aim real high towards the change
Constant force, there’s always change
Release control with all the change
For yes in time we can truly change
Smaller change, greater change
So much here to rearrange
New concepts are hardly strange
Stand united welcome change
Restoration welcome change
Conservation bring the change
Re-establish forward change
For yes in time we will truly change

Change may be uncomfortable, let fear be inexcusable
Steer from the reprehensible, payback is repayable
To so forgive, inexhaustible
Of oneness that is plausible, the broken rectifiable
Connected, relational
Associate and we can relate, don’t waste time, a pitiless state
Memories that we cannot retake, in position, get in place
Abundance that is plentiful, examples observational
Joyfulness obtainable, experience the seasonal
Of actions yet to take, we’re keeping the game strong
Keep moving in forward motion, wherever you came from
With avid harmony, we all will soldier on
We can now create a place, with a feeling to belong

Let’s begin and start a new change
For in time we truly can change, subtle change, ample change, some folks just ain’t trying to change
Aim real high towards the change
Constant force, there’s always change
Release control with all the change
For yes in time we can truly change
Smaller change, greater change
So much here to rearrange
New concepts are hardly strange
Stand united welcome change
Restoration welcome change
Conservation bring the change
Re-establish forward change
For yes in time we will truly change

Bridge

With mind-sets evolved, there is true insight
Let’s create a place, to truly shine our light
There is wisdom to release, to regain our inner peace
Together as one, together as one
Compassion in the land, with a heart to understand
A true united force, let’s lend a helping hand
With due simplicity, re-establish harmony
Let’s set ourselves free, let’s set ourselves free
True change may be uncomfortable
Yet it is unmistakeable
New steps that are approachable
Of thoughts from the conventional
Mindful and relatable
Hopeful and aspirational

Verse 4
To go beyond, no greater time, reclaim your light it’s time to shine
In relaxed mode we will decline, natural gems can be refined
Branch of the vine, be aligned
Masterpieces of design, purposed for potential prime
Stand in line, for such a time
Become a part of the solution, let’s create a revolution
Educate the institution, truly merge into a fusion
Reduce the confrontational, join the inspirational
Movement motivational, achieve the aspirational
The journey will be great, endurance may be long
Keep moving in forward motion, can we all just get along
With solid harmony, a team can become strong
Let's now create a place, with the option to belong
Of problems to be solved, of all the games to win
If the foundation is laid, by then we can begin
A sense of harmony, let's take the vision on
Let’s now create a place, where the people can belong


Let’s begin and start a new change
For in time we truly can change, subtle change, ample change, some folks just ain’t trying to change
Aim real high towards the change
Constant force, there’s always change
Release control with all the change
For yes in time we can truly change
Smaller change, greater change
So much here to rearrange
New concepts are hardly strange
Stand united welcome change
Restoration welcome change
Conservation bring the change
Re-establish forward change
For yes in time we will truly change

Chorus
There is ever present change, many thoughts to rearrange
Together we can change the world, let’s rewrite the page
There are many forms of strong, yet we all must soldier on
Together as one, together as one
For each and every fight, is a chance to so unite
Every lesson in the wrong, it can be rendered right
There is opportunity, be the change you want to see
Let’s set ourselves free, let’s set ourselves free
In time, beyond the impossible
Breaking through every obstacle
By faith from the intangible
Objects, they are exchangeable
Yet lives are irreplaceable
Real change is attainable

Written by Geraldine Taylor ©️
PAST arthritic decrepit elderly female wearing traditional black southern Mediterranean clothing long silver hair braid sits in stiff wooden chair

PRESENT handsome athletic 21-year-old male soldier in tan uniform stands at ease

FUTURE eye-catching 32-year-old female wearing spaghetti-strap dark slate gray slinky cocktail dress 3” black Italian calf heals long loose brown red hair red fingernails lipstick



act 1 scene 1

PAST (clasped hands) you’re ruining everything

PRESENT get out of the way old woman you don’t belong here anymore

PAST (hands gesture) you think you’re making things better look around the earth is a toilet of human errors accidents self-destruction violence greed corruption horrible secrets

PRESENT be quiet old woman silence hear me shut the **** up (short pause) what? you think your former oppressive hierarchies were better

FUTURE talk ***** to me

PAST shush up girl

PRESENT let the pretty lady speak

FUTURE (coquette stride across stage) i have a vision a world where everyone is equal living in harmony shared respect appreciation for each other we’re entering a critical crossroads extraordinary passage in time

PRESENT you hear what the pretty lady said

PAST she’s baiting you hook line and sinker

PRESENT (male bravado stance) you wrinkled bitter blind old woman can’t you see feel this critical crossroads extraordinary passage in time

PAST i know a black widow when i see one

FUTURE who you calling black widow you old witch

PAST i remember when food was good natural cows chickens lived happy neighbors were neighborly you could walk home at night without looking over your shoulder or stick out your thumb hitch a ride or if you drove up to a stop sign no one was in front of you people greeted each other as they passed it wasn’t that far back just 50 years ago

PRESENT ***** you old woman i don’t know what time that was what were you some privileged person

FUTURE let’s order pizza

PAST who can eat at a time like this

PRESENT pepperoni and mushroom

FUTURE mushroom tomato basil no meat

PRESENT cool

PAST you’re escaping into comfort food immediate gratification

FUTURE why must you judge everything

PRESENT i’m with pretty lady pass away old witch let the future and me figure this out

PAST don’t say i didn’t warn you all this banter has exhausted me i need a little nap (she tilts head closes eyes slumps in chair)



act 1 scene 2

PRESENT (swaggers up to eye-catching female) perfect now you pretty lady and i can get more familiar with each other know what i mean

FUTURE what do you have in mind

PRESENT pardon my straightforwardness i’m shooting for 69 you know what that is

FUTURE hmmm uhh yes i know what that is

PRESENT you mind spreading open those long lovely legs of yours and let me see what you got hidden there

FUTURE you think you’re man enough to see what i’ve got hidden here

PRESENT oh yes ma’am

FUTURE lie down on your back on the floor

PRESENT anyway you want it i’m glad to oblige you ma’am

FUTURE (lifts dress to waist and stands over his head) like what you see

PRESENT oohhh you are a beauty my mouth is watering please let me have a taste

FUTURE (bends knees squats above his head sinks pelvic area into his face) give me your best shot soldier boy

PRESENT mmmmmmm (long pause)

FUTURE ease up (pause) it’s a delicate flower slow gently treat it like an intricate story plot construct it carefully strong foundation listen to my breathing heartbeat feel my muscles flex follow mounting rhythm by rhythm building to crescendo

PRESENT (long pause) how am i doing

FUTURE terrible (stands ***** drops dress walks away) you’re all over the place no skill discipline direction you need to be more precise more anticipatory more presence of mind less messy rashness

PRESENT no girl ever told me that before

FUTURE probably because she was so grateful to see your face down there she would not think to ask for more but i’m the future and my needs are more demanding

PRESENT you sure do smell and taste good ma’am may i please have another shot

FUTURE listen up soldier boy i know understand you you’re a man with needs that torment you i think you have been going through this long before i knew you i see through your tough veneer i have an idea what haunts you

PRESENT what do you mean what haunts me

FUTURE maybe you didn’t get enough love from mom dad was never around none of your teachers at school knew how to get through to you now look at yourself soldier boy you’re fighting a war inside and out trying to save something that can’t be saved the world is changing faster than you can keep up do you honestly think your life and labors will have any effect on me

PRESENT i don’t understand

FUTURE i’m on the horizon you desperately need me (pause) and i don’t need you



act 1 scene 3

PAST shut up i can’t get any rest around here can’t stand hearing all this drama gibberish

PRESENT you’ve been listening (pause) you heard everything

PAST i’ve heard enough to make my stomach turn sour i don’t need to hear any more of this crap

FUTURE (flexed posture eyes glare at elderly female) don’t give me reason to trash you

PAST you think i’m afraid of you

FUTURE i mean it old witch i’ll annihilate you

PRESENT what’s happening here i don’t understand let’s all just chill

FUTURE stay out of this soldier boy it’s between the old witch and me

PAST (stands from chair raises arms revealing long black shawl) you think i am a feeble old woman or witch as you like to call me but my power goes beyond your imaginings wherever you go i will follow track you down haunt you infect you with your errors accidents self-destruction violence greed corruption horrible secrets

FUTURE shut up shut up you’re ruining everything (frantically rushes to edge of stage looks out searching audience paces back and forth hands cover ears)

PRESENT i’m lost who do i believe listen to

PAST (spreads arms out like wings) you want to know about the future i’ll tell you i can see right through her lies it’s a world devoid of fish in the seas or creatures in the forest instead industrial farming complexes producing genetically altered strains of cattle pig chicken flavorless fruits vegetables grains toxic black oceans toxic black skies stifling temperatures coastal cities swamped swarms of vermin parasites oh lest i forget trillions upon trillions of humans and robots robots!

FUTURE (abducts arms) but what about my beautiful vision a world where everyone is equal living in harmony shared respect appreciation for each other

PAST you’re in love with your own deceptions foolish woman you can’t possibly believe the sins of the past will ever let go of you

FUTURE that’s it you ***** you die (attacks old woman’s throat strangling)

PRESENT (intervenes pulling enraged female off elderly female) please stop this fighting stop your hostility

PAST (coughing choking trouble speaking) it’s up to you now soldier boy what will you do

PRESENT i need fresh air i have to go get away from here goodbye to both of you

FUTURE not so fast

PAST in a way we’re all joined at the hip understand soldier boy now lie down on your back on the floor there’s something i’ve got hidden if you’re man enough to see (lifts skirt hem)

FUTURE i want in on this

PRESENT oh god
Taylor Broussard May 2019
Determined soldier, soldier on
Keep your head in the zone
Don't lose your positive tone
Please pick up the phone

Drained soldier, soldier on
Long enough to come back home
Back into my loving arms
Please don't leave me all alone

My soldier, soldier on
Do what it takes
For you to win this war
Please come back home
My fiance is in the Army, and so I wrote this poem for him to remind him that I'm here waiting for him to finally come back home. To all of you in or who was in the military, Thank you for your service.
If I were a soldier
All ****** and bribed
I would go down by the trenches
On a tank time joy ride
If I were a soldier
Death would be my game
For all the wrong reasons
They will remember my name
If I were a soldier
I'd say my farewells
Down the barrel of a ******
And straight down to hell
If I were a soldier
Wounded by pride
For a country not worth this
Lest we forget,
I have died
Brent Kincaid Jun 2015
CONGRESSIONAL EDICT

Go home soldier;
No whining allowed.
Shut up soldier;
It’s enough to be proud.
Be proud you fought
To defend our systems.
Just stop *******
About things wrong with them.

Go away, soldier;
So what if you lost a leg?
Man up, soldier;
It is not polite to beg.
You did your bit fine
It serves no purpose to lag.
Shut up now, for good;
Your words seem to be a brag.

Bug off, soldier;
Yours is an old sad song.
Who cares soldier?
We’re important, so go along.
We have work to do now
And laws to undo and make.
We have no time for cripples,
How much whining can we take?

Buck up, soldier;
The churches will feed you.
Not us, soldier;
We no longer need you.
You fought for your country
In the wars of yesterday.
That is an old, sad story.
So, just go away.
Viseract Mar 2016
A soldier he was
But soldier no more
Twenty years or so
A veteran of war

Afghanistan, Hawaii, East Timor
A soldier of war
A soldier of war

Bringing back souvenirs
Another scar, another day
Where everyone was frontline
And they suffered the pain

He came home again
But everything had changed
The person he could've been
His choices had rearranged.

I sat and spoke with him
When I ran away from home
Just me and him, in the park
On the grass and together alone.

He apologised for not being there
When I needed him most
First time I've ever really seen him cry
Hard for him to compose

He held out my hands
"Did you think you were given a ***?
Of anger, that's all you'll get in life?"
He looked me in the eyes, his own watering a lot

He looks away, sniffles a bit
"I found out the hard way"
And as he does, I see his pain
From twenty years ago to this very day

Afghanistan, Hawaii, East Timor and beyond
My own father
My own father
A veteran of war
I love you, Dad. You didn't have to always be with me, in my heart you always were.
*****


Apr 7, 2012, 6:08:21 PM by ~OmegaWolfOfWinter
Journals / Personal




"Name: Amelia Weissmuler. Date of birth: June 6th, 1920. Test subject number 314-X. Specimen: Tiger." Amy heard all of this through a haze of sedatives that had begun to lose their already poor effect. She turned in the direction of the voice and saw a fearsome **** SS General standing behind a white clad scientist with a heavy accent. The general said nothing but listened and watched as Amy was strapped down to a cold metal table, completely **** with various wires, tubes and needles protruding from her flesh. She groaned painfully, the needles were extensive, and the **** scientists had no care of decency or respect. she was hit with another sedative and before she lost consciousness she heard the scientist, who she guessed was Dr. Heismeiller, say, "Name, Mordecai Dansker, former Major of the Third *****. Date of birth: September 19th, 1919. Test subject 14-W. Specimen: Wolf. As you
can see, Heir General, these are both healthy specimens, as are the test subjects." Amy heard a
rattling of cages. Her vison slowly went dark but not before seeing the doctor's face, uncovered and psychotic.
* *
When Amy woke up again, she was being suspended from the floor, the tubes and wires accompanied by menacing electrodes. there was an unnatural blue and white crackling of electricity around her, illuminating the other suspended tables nearby, the bodies in various grotesque positions and levels of decay. she tried to scream but found a machine unceremoniously shoved in her mouth, stretching deep inside her. she looked and saw nothing but obscene machines and various glass tubes of colored bubbling liquids. she tried sluggishly to break free but to no avail. what little strength she had was useless against the torturous devices emplanted in and around her. "Doctor, begin the experiment."
"Yaboe!" She heard a solid click resound through the room and heard a male scream in another room. the screams echoed for a long while, then nothing. she heard a gasp of releif from
the doctor and, "General! Subject 14-W... he has... Survived!"
"Good. now start on the frauline." there was a large thud from outside the room. "Quickly! this facility is under seige!"
"Yes sir, heir general. Test subject 314-X prepped and ready. Begin phase 1." she cried out silently as the needles burned hot inside her and the tubes boiled her insides. the electrodes soon incapacitated her and she fell unconscious.
*
*
"Phase 1 complete, heir general, subject is ready, proceeding to Phase 2."
Amy felt an intense burning around the needles, and an electric fire through her veins. the machine had been taken from her mouth, but she doubted she could scream any more, as her throat was raw from the silent screams of Phase 1. She felt her body shake uncontrollably as more electric shocks were administered. she was left panting and slumped over. "Sequence complete, the bonding process was a success." there was another thud and sediment from the roof fell to the floor. "Get her down now! They will be through soon!" She was lowered to the ground and unstrapped from the table, picked up, and placed on a stretcher. she raised her hands on front her face and nearly fainted, her hands, or paws, resembled that of a tiger, and as she looked, her whole body was covered in a slick orange, black and white fur. She was put into the backseat of an armored car with a simple blanket draped around
her. Amy felt nauseated
as the car sped off. It hit a bump in the road and she moaned painfully, clutching her furry belly and retching. the **** next to her turned away in disgust. the car ride was long and sickening, and she lost consciousness twice, and finally she tried to lay down in the cramped space. when the armored car finally stopped, she was pulled from the back seat and carried over a soldier's shoulder and into a small bunker. Once inside, amy heard a metal door open and was laid down onto a stiff bed with a single pillow and a single cover. There was a small window in the cell, a drab, grey stream of light shining in her eyes. She propped herself up on her elbow and shielded her eyes from the blinding contrast. Once her eyes adjusted, amy noticed that things had a particular sharpness to them and she had an acute awareness of things based on scent. she stood shakily, and noticed she was almost
six inches taller now, and her new tail swished back and forth along the concrete floor. she stepped
forward and grasped the iron bars and peeked out, seeing a black leather messenger bag and a black uniform lined with white. she couldn't quite reach the uniform, but was able to get a claw around the strap of the messenger bag. she pulled it closer to her and saw that her initials were monogrammed into the leather. she pulled it through the bars and opened the bag, pulling out a small, blank, leather bound journal and a pen. still ****, she sat on the bed and practiced writing, tearing out two pages of scratch paper. She began her journal with, "I am no longer the person i once was. i am something new, something... different."
• * *
The **** captain stepped into the bunker and saw amy, half lying, half dangling on the bed, the leather journal clutched close to her chest. he stormed into the cell and backhanded her awake, snatching up the journal as she cowered in the corner, her tail wrapped around her. the captain flipped through the pages of the journal and then closed iit with a snap. he glanced at it and dropped it on the bed. "it is yours now, Frauline. you are very special to the third *****. the fuhrer himself has asked for you to be placed in the Waffen SS and trained." amy glanced at the uniform on the table outside the cell and he nodded, "specially tailored for you, frauline. he stepped outside the cell and grabbed the uniform, setting it down on the bed. "you may Change into your new uniform and join the rest of us outside." he stepped outside and she was alone. she donned the simple uNdergarments then
slipped into the soft black trousers, after which she put on her military boots. next she put on the black and white jacket signature of the SS. the jacket was sleek and menacing, though it did little to flatten her chest, but that, she supposed, was one of her feminine charms. last was her hat and armband, both adorned with the *******. she gathered the leather messenger bag and stepped outside the cell, where a mirror stood, giving her a chance to see what had been done, the black uniform was a dramatic contrast to her brightly colored fur, and her new black stripes added a fierce look to her. she grinned and flashed menacing white teeth. she turned her body, looking at herself from different points of view. she slipped the **** armband onto her right arm and turned to leave. she stopped when she encountered a high pitch noise right next to the door. for the moment she just walked past, opening the door and adjusting her vision to the outside light. the layout was grey and barren,
as it always was in wartime. the captain was waiting for her along with a small squad of SS troops. a
Few laughed and remarked at her appearance, making cat noises and wolf whistling at her. she glared at them with a bright white snarl carved into her soft face. *they will fear me...

she saluted the captain and said, "heil ******." he returned the gesture, "heil. you are now part of the Waffen SS, frauline Amelia."
"please sir, its amy."
he noted her directness and ferocity, "very well, amy. before we assign you a task, though, you must prove yourself." he addressed the squad, "they are all corporal's and sergeants. you are merely a private. you will gain a rank for each one that you ****. however, they have been told that if they do not force you to submit, they will be killed or sent to the russian front. so you best fight your hardest, private amy."
as he finished, the squad set down their Mauser 98K's and MP-40's and stepped closer to her. her eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in ferocious determination. there were twelve of them.
"Fight!"
• *
Amy took a fighting stance and faced her attackers. she attempted a punch at the nearest one but was kneed in the gut, she was thrown back a few feet. she fell to her knees and clutched her stomach with one hand, holding herself upright with the other. tears sprung to life in her eyes and threatened to roll down her cheeks. she fought the tears back and stood, feeling her claws extend. she swiped at a soldier's throat, catching him right in the throat. blood splattered the ground as he choked on his own fluids. the remaining eleven were taken aback slightly, allowing her to pounce another soldier, punching and tearing at his gut with lethal force. her fur was bloodstained and she waited a moment too late, watching the cavity she created fill with blood. she was barreled over, the wind knocked out of her by a sergeant. she lay on her back, gasping for air as the soldiers closed in,
landing a few punches and sending her reeling back. she staggered back, struggling for breath. she
Bumped up against something and realized it was a bunker wall, she was trapped. she thought quickly and decided for a new course of action, she waited for one of them to gather his bravado and throw a solid punch at her, which was useless, she grabbed his wrist and smashed his head against the wall, filling his helmet with blood and brains. in the same move, she had grabbed his Luger and had downed three more of the remaining ten. in their moment of confusion she kicked the closest one in the fork of his legs and followed up with a pistolwhip. the man went down quickly and died by the heel of her merciless boot. the remaining six charged at her, one falling by her last bullet and another caught a swift kick in the ribcage, shattering the bones to peices. the rest of the men were sergeants, and they began to retreat, running into the open field. she was about to chase after them when she
heard another Luger fire. she turned to see the captain shooting the deserters. each fell, one by
One by the captain's gun to her surprise he let a single man go. "you have done very well, frauline amy. you have killed eight out of twelve men, not bad at all."
she was panting, her uniform dirtied, "why.. did you let.. him go?"
the captain smiled, "someone has to spread you're reputation, heir captain."
she gaped at him. "i am... captain?"
"yaboe, heir frauline. you have proved yourself worthy to serve under the fuhrer."
she saluted him, "thank you, heir captain."
*
amy wrote in her journal as they were driven to one of the Stalags: "my promotion to captain has earned me my choice of weapons, ive chosen a few, two long barrel Luger's, a cavalry saber, and a sixteen foot bullwhip. i also carry an automatic Mauser in my messenger bag. other than a few knives carefully hidden on my body, that should be it. ive become the fuhrer's favorite enforcer, though i feel as if i'm forgetting something..."
amy closed the journal and placed it in her bag with a soft snap.
Amy waited for a **** private to open the car door and let her out, tapping her foot impatiently. when he finally came, she had a luger pointed at his chest. "you're late. she got out of the car and shot him, holstering the pistol as he crumpled to the ground. the colonel in charge rushed towards her, "what is the meaning of this?!"
"your man on watch was late, and now he'll never be late again. and also, colonel, as i am a captain in the SS, i am your superior officer and you WILL adjust yourself accordingly or i will replace you with someone who will."
his expression was that of shock, "y-yes, heir captain, please follow me." he escorted her quickly to the main building. amy glanced around at the peering POWs, glaring at them with distaste as they whistled at her. "who's the kitty?" "what the hell is that?"
her hands fell to her lugers and she was ready to fire when she was beckoned inside by the colonel and she followed behind him reluctantly. "you should control your prisoners.
i find an overall lack of order in this camp. you're lucky i'm in a good mood, or i'd have you strung up for incompetence. lets hope my further evaluation of this... facility... does not make me any more inclined to do so."
the colonel stuttered again and dipped his head, "y-yes heir captain."
she stepped outside unopposed by any. she snapped her fingers and a sergeant rushed to her side and saluted. she handed him a journal logbook and he opened it to the page marked with the Stalag number. she entered the closed off areas of the stalag to inspect the barracks.
*
amy's fists were clenched with rag, a prisoner mocked her from within his confines. his fellow prisoners pleaded with him to stop. "she's lethal!" "she killed eight SS sergeants and corporals singelhandedly her first day!"
the prisoner ignored them and began gesturing at her. she snapped her head up and their eyes met for an instant, she growled through a gritted snarl and was over the fence in mere moments. once over,
the prisoner that mocked her was now on the ground, his throat between her fangs. he cried out once and then gurgled blood as she tore out his throat. she spat the flesh onto the dirt and stood, brushing the dusty particles from her uniform. the men around her backed away when she approached them, and watched her cautiously as she stepped back out of the fenceline. amy picked up her cap from the ground and brushed it off. one of the prisoners called for a doctor, and when one of the guards began to look for one, she merely said, "no, he wont survive. leave him be."
the soldier saluted and went back to his post. she walked up to the colonel and said, "your prisoner annoyed me, as do you, colonel. you have three days to turn this place around or you'll end up worse off then your prisoner over there."
the colonel had turned a pale white and whispered, "understood, captain."
she returned to her quarters and listened for a moment as the colonel shouted orders. "that was fun." she remarked.

Amy was asleep in one of the larger rooms in the main  building, her uniform folded neatly on the table near the bed. she kep one luger on her bedside table and the mauser under her pilllow. her other luger, her sword and her whip were next to her clothes. she was clad only in her fur, as she'd found that the most comfortable way to sleep.
she was woken up by a knock at the door. she blinked her eyes a few times. clutching the mauser handle with one hand and holding the blanket to her chest with the other, she said, "what is it?"
"the colonel wishes to speak to you, heir frauline."
she growled, "grrr... fine. tell him to make it quick." she clutched the blanket closer as he opened the door. she held the mauser aimed at him and said, "turn." he did so without hesitation. she slipped cautiously out of the bed and began to dress. "what is it you wished to speak with me about, colonel?" amy put on her undergarments and then pulled her trousers up to her waist, fastening the belt comfortably.
"there is an important telegram for you, heir captain." she pulled on the jacket over her simple shirt, tugging out any wrinkles. "oh? from who?" next came the holster belts, each hanging slightly lower than her first belt. her sword was another belt, and there was a custom clip there for her whip as well.
"Himler, he has special orders for you." her messenger bag was next to last, slung over her shoulder before she slipped into her boots. ""You can turn now. hand them here." she stepped closer to him and took the envelope with her name scrawled on the front. the colonel excused himself so she could read the orders, "captain amelia weissmuler, once you have completed your assignment at Stalag 14, please make haste to stalingrad as there has been a number of our own turning against the *****. see to it that they cause no more problems. -heinrich himler"
she read it through three more times before folding it and placing it in her bag. she hurried outside, grabbing her hat
From the dresser.
* *
amy went about her inspection, seeing nothing wrong today. "the condition of stalag 16 has improved, heir colonel. well done. now send my car around." the colonel grinned and motioned for the car.
the black car adorned with swastikas roared to life, coming up beside her. the d
Meri pehchan shirf itni hai ki "I'm born in INDIA" Bharat meri pehchan h, Bharat mera samman h, Bharat mera Abhimaan h
||
Aap mujhshe sab kuch cheen sakte **, mera tan mera lahu par meri pahchaan mujhse Bhartiya hone ki nahi cheen sakte aur wahi meri identity hai, mai bhartiya hu mujhe iss par bahot garv hai or iss se uper koi garv mujhe chahie v nahi ||
Mai Bharat maa ka beta hu pahle ,uske baad ek maa ne mujhe janm dia h is sthal bharat bhumi par ussi ki lie kuch likha tha ye ki..
KAASH MERI ZINDGI ME SARHAD KI KOI SHAAM AAYE
KAASH MERI ZINDGI MERE WATAN KE KAAM AAYE
NAA KHAUF HAI MAUT KA OR NAA AARJU HAI JANNAT KI
MAGAR JAB KABHI ZIKR ** SAHEEDO KA
KAASH MERA V NAAM AAYE KAASH MERA V NAAM AAYE
This is what i would love to introduce myself like that....
Agar koi puche ki kaun tha wo -
JAB KOI PUCHE MERE BAARE ME
TO MERI YE PEHCHAAN LIKH DENA
UTHANA MERA COMMANDO DAGGER
OR CHATTI PAR HINDUSTAAN LIKH DENA
KOI PUCHE PAGAL THA WO KAUN
TO BHAGAT SINGH OR KRANTIKARIO KA CHELA
OR INQUILAB KA GULAM LIKH DENA
AUR BACHA ** JO **** ME LAHU
NIKALNA USSE OR FEKANA ZAMEEN PE
OR MAA TUJHE SAALAM LIKH DENA
Yhai parichaye tha hai or rahega...... |||||||||
Aaj kal bahot ek mudda chal rha h Desh bhakti kuch logo ne usse Hinduo se jod dia kuch ne mushlmaano se kuch ne sikkho se kuch ne ishayeo se, ek baat yaad rakhna hum pehchaan hai Ek aisa mahavidyalaya ek aisa university (its like an university ,its like a college the country is like college, we may have different wings, we may have different subjects but we all belong to une college/ university and that is Bharat ||
aaj bahot jaruri ** gya uss ‪#‎traitor‬ us gaddar ya behter language me usse ‪#‎gaddar‬ or ‪#‎Chutia‬ khenge..
lets talk about that person jisne har fauji har iss bharat maa ke bete ko hurt kia h aaj uske baare me baat karna bahot jaruri ** gya h
Naa hinduo se naa mushalmano se
iss mulk ko taqleef hai gaddar or baemaano se
jinhe hum haar samajh baithe the
gala apana sajane ko
wahi ab naag ban baithe
humhi ko kaat khane ko
Pichle 2-3 mahine, it has been disturbing me a lot " I being an Indian ,I being a simple son of this motherland feel hurt ..
Bura lagta haikaaran ye hai log kahte hai hum kuch kar nahi sakte
"Aisa hai karne par aa jaye to bahot kuch kar sakte hai , lekin hum samman karte hai bharat ke sarrwoch nyayalay ka (Supreme court ka )" or uske aadesh ki awhelna nahi karna chahte hai , uske aadesh ka paalan karte hue kuch gaddaro ko aaj v chod rakha hai,
warna aisa hai kaam hi haddia todne ka or jaan lene ka hindustani fauz karti hai |
kisi ne kaha mai unn gaddaro ka naam lena v pasand nahi karunga,bcz wo itna v deserve nahi karte ki unka naam is juban par aaye
but ek cheej bolna bahot jaruri hai ''ki Bhartiya senaa ****** hai"
Agar gharo me baithe ** naa or tumhari behne or tumhari maaye ghar se nikal kar jaa rahi hai to sirf ye hindustani fauz hai jiski dumm pe tumne bhai hone kaa baap hone ka farz nahi nibhaya hoga "this is the only indian armed forces which maintain the degnity of a soldier nad maintains that brotherhood" aapki bahne aapki maaye agar surakshit hai to wo bharat ki senaye hai jiske kaaran hai , bolne ke pahle socha karo or kismat bahot acchi thi ki fauz ke saamne nahi bola warna jo Hero bana di na iss desh ne ,fauz tum jaise ko choddti bhai nahi ....magar ye bharat ka samvidhan hai "there is the constitution of India" jisne baandh rakha hai humare haatho ko , Krodh karna meri aadat nahi hai magar aata hai gussa islie aata hai kyuki chanakya ne kaha ki akshar maine juthe logo ko mushkurate hue dekha hai .. jo sach bolta hai or dil se bolta haai usko gussa bahot aata hai or ye gussa iss bat ka hai ki iss desh me kutto ko maarne ki permission nahi hai isliye abhi tak bache hue ** "Ask ur sister ask ur family members ,if there are 10 young boys & if there is a single soldier ,ask a young girl where would you go for the help and whom would she ask for the help & i insure this that girl would go to a soldier and ask and she will say one thing suddenly she will use this word Bhaiya meri help kijie" kya hai ye jawani sambhal nahi rahi hai to batao 23 saal me Saheed Bahagat Singh,
Ram Prashad Bishmil bada bada kaam kar ke chale gye, bahot garmi aree sena join karo bharat ki fauz me aaodushmano se lado naaghar ke ander kyu dushmani ka mahaool banate **.....
Kisi ek bewkoof ne ye kah diya ki Bhagat Singh jaisa hai ,Abe sharm karo and clear ur facts before you compare that guy with revolutionaries, kaun the wo or kiski baat kar rahe ** uss inshaan ki who can't deliver two right sentences in one particular languages,
Aap uski comparison kar rahe ** jo Bharat ke samvidhan ko gaddar kah rha hai..
Thik hai bolne ki azadi hai magar ye azadi di kisne hai ," The freedom has been given to you bye the constitution of this country,The Honorable Supreme Court has some guidelines the honorable constitution of this country has some guideline and we must respect that "
Aap kaise Bhartiya sena ko ****** kah sakte ** sharm karo uss sentence par agar aaj v bacchia surakshit hai if the Indian youth if everybody who ever is doing what ever they want to do if this freedom has been given to them is just because of one thing that Indian Army ,Navy,Airforce, Indian armed forces are fighting for you day and night.
Jab tum sone jaate ** tab unki duty ka waqt shuru hota hai , sharm khao iss baat k lie aur yaad rakho Bharat ko todne ki koshish mat karo
Naa hinduo se naa mushlmano se
Iss mulk ko taqleef thi hai gaddaro se or bayemano se .
Or yaad rakho "Apni azadi ka galat upyog mat karo "
JAI HIND
Copyright© Shashank K Dwivedi
Web- skdisro.weebly.com
email-shashankdwivedi.edu@gmail.com
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