Her brown hair hung low,
As the wind played with it,
He felt as if they were waving goodbye,
His hazel eyes turned red,
His white skin blotchy,
As he cried to himself of loosing his lover,
He wished she weren't mad for his decision,
He wished he could feel her soft angelic lips one last time,
To hear her call his name,
Like a thousand harps strumming,
But he headed to a thousand bodies lay dead,
Headed to where sounds of cannons was his alarm clock,
If he survived this would he come home to another man with his love?
His face was stinging as he walked to the way,
To the way to a war,
To a war that has lasted way too long.
