Epitaph For A Weary Soldier
Cold nostalgia chills me numb
Vapidly roaming my home
Yet, I am too grown it seems
To be running my hands over ramshackle dreams
Heavy burdens I've become to acquire
Are far off now from what I desire
But my taciturn expression does not alter
Though my faith inside has long since faltered
The indigenous mortification resting inside
Is comfort now, yet it continues to hide
As I've grown older, the world is less scary
But now a day, I am tired and wary
My morals rest on alleged injustice
And I continue on, anything but gutless
Articulating each word that is born from my tongue
To illicitly survive the unfairness that comes
Ascertaining strides down desolate paths
Freedom from this will come when I pass
My vehement heart is pounding it out
This is for you, my Jem and my Scout.