Nancy L. Meek

THE SACRIFICE

The soldier slides his sword into its sheath
having completed the missions given to him
grateful to be one of the few men to leave
after hanging his life on war’s proverbial limb

He has done his duty… he has given his all
then to country, home and hearth he returns
but he cannot read the writing on the wall
that the heat of battle eternally burns

He can put his trust in no one
for the enemy still eats at his soul
caught in a hell with nowhere to run
believing nothing will make him whole

This sacrificed soldier will always bleed
whipped and tortured by the thorns of war
rejected and scorned by those he freed
stoned for his deeds on a foreign shore

The blood on his hands refuses to dry
a constant reminder of where he has been
his will to survive fights with his wish to die
in this carnal world of throw-away men

He has seen too much… killed too many
propelling his god just beyond his reach
searching for life’s true meaning, if any
soul swaying, fore’er standing in the breach

Time only proves the war still remains
its hands stirring the grains of orange dust
an endless tune resounding in horrific strains
its death knell extolling the demise of the just

A prisoner of war is this sacrificed man
dwelling in a camp of suffering and pain
his soul at the mercy of the great I Am
caught in a world were nightmares reign

Will he ever find peace here on this earth
before death’s fingers encircle his throat
or will peace remain just beyond his girth
abandoning him eternally to a land remote?

Will no one heed the guttural cries
of this bleeding soldier swaying in the wind
seeing his own soul burning in demonic eyes
fighting eternal battles which refuse to end?

No greater love has any man
than to offer his life for a friend
Some do not fully understand
the sacrifice made in the end.