Death of a Soldier

A man who was once full of life and love now lies shattered and broken on the ground. His limbs, once agile and strong, now lay motionless. He used to enjoy running in meadows and taking in the beauty of the countryside, but now he is decaying in a foreign land filled with toxic air. His hands, once tender and caring, now have exposed bones. His arms, which used to cradle children, are torn and twisted. This brave man, with a heart full of love, went off to war but was blown apart and trampled in the forest. There is no honor or glory in this loss, only the painful absence of a loved one's face. Shattered and broken on the crimson stained earth lies what once was a man. Engeared limbs which ran in sweet smelling meadows once in another land. Sighting down country lanes in early morning mist without a single care. Now putrefying in a foreign field copious in poisonous air. Sensitive hands which caressed a beloved skin in dawn's soft blushing glow. Soft flesh with bones exposed as white and pure as newly fallen snow. Burning arms which lifted children high and cradled them to sleep. Torn and twisted, mangled and raw, nearby in a heap. A heart so full of love, so brave and true when marching off to war. Blown from the chest and trampled down in the forest's ferny floor. There is no honour to be found here, nor glory to replace the gaping loss of what once was all of a loved one's face.