LA SOLDIER
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she is the pillar of sisterhood,
soldier both of small kindness and greatest sacrifice.
it is she who stands at the edge of the darkness,
her grace which growls "you will not touch my children" to the stalking shadows beyond.
she is the warm and embracing shine of the moon.
her heart is clear as crystal, strong as a mother's hands,
a spirit born a thousand times into war, handed down, the hearth's maiden protector.
she invokes the lioness bristling with defiance, the princess with a sword,
engaged in relentless combat with quiet honor.
she has placed her calling above all else. childhood is only a memory now.
the soldier endures her people's grief and pain with a patience
so great it becomes an embrace full of mute compassion.
she will not be broken, will not be twisted by her own terrible strength,
for she is beyond the lying comforts of failure and complaint.
she is guardian of love and justice, and she weeps for her enemies.
and on that day when she is driven to her knees in utter defeat,
that awful day when the final cry is torn from the soldier's lips,
bested in combat, her friends slain, her empire in ruins, darkness triumphant,
without hesitation she will whisper "I forgive you."