Love Letter to a Soldier
Blind men go to battle
Like blind mice running towards water,
Fighting for a cause.
What cause?
You're only told parts of the whole story.
The rest is shrouded in mystery.
It will cover you,
Like a gauzy funeral cloth,
You will be bound in
By your beliefs,
Based on your limited experience.
After all,
You never knew what was the reality of your enemy.
While waiting for bullets to tear into you,
A bomb to blow you to bits,
Did you ever wonder,
Soldier,
If war is worth your cause?
And,
What of the blood now staining your hands
It will never wash out in your nightmares.
And,
What of the faces of the children, the babies
Those that never get mentioned?
Those that become faceless under the umbrella of
'Casualties'?
Friendly fire,
Does not burn me with love and kisses.
It does not leave me composed with inner satisfaction.
Soldier,
Don't you long for peace?
Do you escape in your sleep,
To pleasant memories?
Your childhood?
Your family?
Coffins line the bases waiting to go home.
A flag
A Purple Heart.
It would become purple after the blood had
Stopped flowing to it.
So would lips that speak no more..
Why does the blood of the young
Quench Lusty Thirsts?
Man is an animal.
Made more so by greed,
A fierce creature whose talion have a far reaching grasp
Made more powerful by metal, gunpowder, and steel.
Soldier,
As night approaches what do you think of?
As blood flows like wine to goblets
Have you made some sense?
Are you able to find peace?
poem by Rabia Minhas
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Related quotes
The Writer and The Soldier
The Writer and The Soldier
By
Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk
The writer writes a sad lament for the love that he lost long
ago,
The soldier mourns the loss of a fellow slain long ago.
The writer has lead and ink on his hands,
The soldier has blood on his.
The writer can wash away the pigments and with them his
memory’s go, but the soldier can only wash the blood on his
skin; he can not wash the blood on his heart nor
The memory’s in his mind,
Burned into his mind with canon fire and the cries of
His falling comrades.
Oh,
When the two meet, they give to each other much needed gifts;
The writer gives the soldier understanding and a few happy
tales to think of when tears try to strike him down,
And the soldier gives the writer a new sad lament to write, and
a new meaning to the word friendship.
Written August 14,2008
poem by Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk
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Young Soldier
Stay calm soldier
Do not panic
Stay calm soldier
And think of what you were taught
You're too young to die
My soldier
You're too young to leave
Run soldier
From the danger ahead
Run soldier
Don't be brave
You're too young to die
My soldier
You're too young to leave
Fight soldier
The enemy that fights you
Fight soldier
And make it though the day
You're too young to die
My soldier
You're too young to leave
Come home soldier
I miss you terribly
Come home soldier
To me and your family
You're too young to die
My soldier
Don't ever leave me
poem by Only Yours
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Brave Little Soldier
Im a brave little soldier
I must be bold and strong
A brave little soldier
And I must carry on
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Im a brave little soldier
I must fight, I must win
Im a brave little soldier
Through hell and back again
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Per rum, pum, pum
Per rum, pum, pum
Per rum, pum, pum, pum, pum
Ye though I am marching through the valley filled with fear
My steps are sure and sturdy and my aim is straight and clear
The enemy is stalking me just waiting for the kill
Like david slewed galiath
I will claim this battle field
Im a brave little soldier
I must do what I can
Im a brave little soldier
And I must take a stand
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Marching, marching onward
Searching out the light of truth
I did not start the war
But its a battle I cant lose
Faith will be my armor
And love my sword and shield
I must defeat the enemy
I will, I will, I will
A brave little soldier
I must be bold and strong
A brave little soldier
And I must carry on
A brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Brave, little soldier
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soldier's Ghost
I bled for you - would you for me?
I blessed a skin in blazing fuel
Then took a bullet in a duel of
‘He or I to Die.'
I often question ‘Why? '
Do you?
My country was my life to give -
Would you for country cease to live?
Sinking in a mire of death,
You have no choice -
So while you're still alive,
Rejoice!
I cried in failure - did you care?
And as I waned, were you aware of
What I did -?
Fighting for my country while you hid
Behind your comfort back at home?
Still relaxed?
My wife and child are fading at the tomb.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier soldier soldier war
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
war war war war war war war war war war war war
war war war war war war war war war war war war
war war war war war war war war war war war war
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Of Haiti and Other Wars
Dark soldier at attention near the sea
A tear, like sudden blood,
Down sweat and flesh and the teeth of strangers
Through bullets and the barrels of loaded guns
Blood, like a frightened lizard
Through his window in the night,
A sky the colour of corbeaux
And tears that flow to a fretful, reckless sea
Dark soldier came here, a stranger, when the moon was low and
Mocking distance from this dry and shattered land
Lying beautiful and broken like first sex
Her smile the shape of an unfinished dream
He came here when the day was night and the night was blind
Planes the shape of vultures over scalded hills
Smoke the smell of scabs greets them as they arrive
He stands at attention near the sea and in his tears
Strangers presenting alms of food and cameras
Strangers from across the way
Strangers through his window in the night
Strangers from familiar lands
Dark soldier at attention near the sea
A castaway on broken ground
Bullets, blood and breakfast
She smiles at him, turns away and goes to sleep
poem by Wesley Gibbings
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I was a Soldier once
Old, tired, physically worn out,
With every move my muscles shout.
Woodworking, gardening, lazing about,
nothing to do but widdle and pout.
I was a Soldier once, large and strong,
I was a Soldier once, doing no wrong.
I was a Soldier once, fighting your war,
I was a Soldier once, mighty to the core.
I sit behind a desk now, slowly getting fat,
Knowing where I should really be settling my hat.
This civilian life I live, is so deadly to me,
I should, again, be a soldier, a sight to see.
I was a Soldier once, Yes Sir, No Sir, anything you say Sir.
I was a Soldier once; it was the life I preferred.
I was a Soldier once, leading from the saddle.
I was a Soldier once, living in my battle rattle.
Those that have never been one shall never know.
Those that put them down can basically go blow.
In this day and age, Soldiers protect our Freedom
In this day and age, everyone should be one.
I know this because,
I was a Soldier once, protecting you and yours.
I was a Soldier once, with back to back fighting tours.
I was a Soldier once, dying for the American way.
and although I was a Soldier once,
I should be a Soldier Now, fighting for you every day.
poem by Rik Bertrand
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A Soldiers Family
Today we lost another soldier, I do not know
His/her name.
Today we lost a soldier, I don’t know
From whence he/she came.
This was a soldier fighting in a war
As so many other soldiers had done this before.
It matters not what country the soldier is from.
For they no longer fight for country, but for each other.
All beliefs, religions, and honors are blown in the wind.
For war is not a joy, it is but a sin.
Once the soldier is gone, the family must live to carry on.
Wondering if it’s all been in vain
And if there was anything to gain.
The pains and the memories the families must bear
And with each other these they share.
A smile, a joke, a laughter, or two
These were the things they shared with you.
A love story or a relationship gone bad
These were the things that made them happy or sad.
A mother who inwardly cries
For it is so hard to say good-bye.
Nine months in her stomach, then tending
And caring for them and watching the child grow
This is what every mother knows.
A soldiers life is lost, but it’s not just any soldier you see
For this is the one that came from the father and me.
Yes! My child was a soldier and on the battle front they died
Trying to protect the freedom for you and I.
But let us mourn for all soldiers, for they are comrades
Who fought side by side, until the moment that they died.
It matters not if they are classified as the enemy
Death on all sides, there are so many.
They cry for their children, the same as we
And their hearts they do bleed.
If we as parents and family would be united as one
We would have these governments” under our gun”.
Until that day- we will always be “ a soldiers family”.
poem by Louis Rams
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The Irish Soldier
The Irish soldier, cast for fight,
Stood to his arms at dead of night,
Watching the east, until its ray
To the battle--field should show his way;--
Soldier, soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight though they call you slave,
And though you but help a bandit hand
Uncheck'd to kill in your native land.
The soldier thought on his chance of doom--
How the trampled sod might be his tomb--
How, in evening's dusk, his sightless stare
To the small pale stars might upward glare;--
Soldier, soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight though you think of the grave--
Though it yawn so near you, black and chill,
Honor and courage man you still.
And o'er his solemn brow he made
The Christian sign, and humbly said--
``Your prayers, good saints, if I should fall;
And for mercy, O Lord, on you I call!''--
Irish soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight, although you crave
The prayers of the saints your own to aid,
And the sign of the cross on your brow have made.
The morning broke--the bugle blew--
The voice of command the soldier knew,
And stern and straight in the van he stood,
And shouting, he rush'd to the work of blood;--
Irish soldier, soldier bold,
Thousands lay round you, crimson'd and cold--
But over their bodies you still fought on,
Till down you sank as the day was won.
And the Irish soldier now hath come,
Worn, and wounded, and crippled, home,
The hated, and slander'd, and scorn'd of those
Who safely slept while he faced their foes;--
Irish soldier, soldier bold,
In your native land you now are told
'Twas traitor--blood on that field you lost,
For you call'd on the saints, and your brow you cross'd!
poem by John Banim
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Soldier
The soldier, he has many battle scars.
But there's only a few, others can see.
The wounds, they did not kill him,
They made him who he was called to be.
Although some of his battles were easy,
Through each of his battles he died.
The pieces, which were his true enemy.
Were the pieces that did not survive.
When the soldier, he goes into battle,
He must know who his enemies are.
They are the ones that would harm another,
And make the soldier, seem like he, was the star.
It is only once you discover the enemy,
The march to victory, then can begin.
For the war that the soldier is fighting.
Is the battle he fights from within.
In each of us there is a soldier.
And each day, we fight the good fight.
For the ones who walk into victory,
Are the ones who find their true light.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Blood Stained
Atrocities
Made every day
Religiously
Their sins
They hide
Can never disguise
Blood stained hands
Blood stained times
Blood stained deeds
Blood stained lies
They wage their wars
Such profiteers
Will nail us all
Their crimes
Concealed
Despicably reveal
Blood stained hands
Blood stained times
Blood stained weapons
Blood stained lies
They fire at will
Intent to kill
They have no conscience
They have no conscience
Ethnic cleansing nothing more!
Blood of nations blood of war
Turn blind eyes
From all your crimes
You bare our souls
Show no remorse
You cannot wash
The bloodstains off
They turn their backs
While others
Commit grisly acts
Were scared
For life
By politicians greedy
Blood stained hands
Blood stained times
Blood stained weapons
Blood stained crimes
Blood stained lands
Blood stained minds
Blood stained deeds
Blood stained lies
And while such predators
Stalk this earth
Disguised as saints
They kill our faith
Obsessed by greed
Lying through their teeth
They cannot wash
The blood stains off
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soldier
Am a soldier at war
I have never seen violence
Because when I fight there is still
Silence
I have no weapon except
My heart it doesn't fire
Zinc bullets it only fires
Pink feelings
Am a soldier at war
Fighting for my other leg
For if am not successful
I will fall
Am a soldier that shows
True colours I fight with
Passion for I don't need
A camouflage suite to hide
Am a soldier that doesn't
Salute but holds on to his
Heart with no malice pollution
Am a soldier at war with
A warm heart but fighting
Against ice cubes
Am a soldier fighting for
A nocturnal issue which is
Replacement
Am a soldier that doesn't
Listen to any sergeants
Commands only my heart
shall give me an order
Am soldier fighting for
THE LOVE OF MY LIFE
poem by Atlay Mwenifumbo
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A Soldier's Nightmares
The sounds were like thunder
As men fell under
In heaps like cattle
‘Win the bloody battle'
Was what was on a soldier's mind
The thought made him kill his own kind
Once the battle was won
All bravery was suddenly gone
As he looked on the fallen faces
Faces of dads, husbands, brothers and lovers
With his false conviction of victory
The soldier raised his shoulders
He inhaled the air of praises
As the army rode home on horses
In the arms of his love
He felt this was enough
But as the night fell
Fear gripped the soldier's heart
Reality was very tough
After the triumph of battle
Came the nights he evaded
It was time to faces the ghosts
Of men slaughtered without care
This was a soldier's nightmare
poem by Hilda Ndenecho
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Soldier Boy
Oh won't you tell me, my soldier boy
What did you do to make them send you off to war
Why did they send you to that alien place
With all their lies, and all that mud across your face?
It nearly broke my heart, my soldier boy
You were my one and only son, my pride and joy
I kept your letters to read and read
I'll keep them safe until the day that you are freed.
And I believe in you no matter what they say
The time will come, you'll see I'm right
When all the fools are made to see the light of day
Together we will win the fight, my soldier boy.
I heard their whisp'rings, my soldier boy
Their secret schemes and plans, I knew their every ploy
And with the loaded gun ready to misfire
I took my case to that authority much higher.
It's nearly over now, my soldier boy
I'll see you soon my flesh and blood, the real McCoy
No need for letters, to read and read
I'll meet you presently, it's true now, you take heed.
And I believe in you no matter what they say
The time will come, you'll see I'm right
When all the fools are made to see the light of day
Together we will win the fight, my soldier boy.
My soldier boy
My soldier boy.
(Song lyric)
poem by John Carter Brown
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My Young Soldier;
My young soldier,
Brave as can be.
My young soldier,
Don't stop fighting.
My young soldier,
You have so much strength.
My young soldier,
Please don't die on me.
My young soldier,
I love you so very much.
My young soldier,
I miss you so dearly.
My young soldier,
Come home to me.
poem by Heather Sandvoss
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Lonely Soldier And An Enemy
The soldier cleaned his gun in anticipation
for the battle he would be fighting. His mind
was focused on his job. His heart was centred
on his illusions. Lonely soldier in a uniform
without a mind of his own. His officers
received their orders from somewhere else,
from men and women who were fighting a
war of greed. Death was nothing more then
a statistic which would be tabulated and
toned down for the media. Not good to let
the world know the actual cost of human
life in the adventure. A tear fell from his
eyes at the thought of how many men he
had killed. He remembered sitting in his kitchen
talking to his wife and making plans for
the future. That was until somebody
somewhere far away had determined
the future was not his to plan. So he worked
at his task in mind of constant wonder at
the waste he was trained to create. His
entire purpose in life was to kill and so he
killed as best he could. The faces of the
enemy reminded him of himself. Other men
who had sat at home with their wives talking
about their futures together. Such a waste of
young ambition by the old men and women who
sat comfortable in the governments of life.
Lonely soldier surrounded by his comrades
all of whom equally trained to hate and kill.
Ah, but the bands would play and the magic
of hero dust would fall upon the shoulders
of the men at arms. How brave they would
be in the battle with their blood splattered
all over their clean uniforms. The solider knew
he fought for a cause but it was odd that
the cause was never quite explained, save
for speeches on freedom and destruction
and illusions of happiness when the enemy
were all dead. Lonely soldier was startled by
an enemy as he cleaned his gun. The two
men glared at one another wondering who
would die first. Soldier and enemy came to
a major decision. Each stripped off their clothes
and stood naked in front of one another.
Two naked men. Without their uniforms.
Now which of them was the enemy?
poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt
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He Entered Into Battle With A Blunt Edged Sword
He entered into battle with a blunt edged sword,
But he did not know quite why.
His sword selection was done without motive,
To battle and kill his fellow man.
So subconsciously he picked out this sword.
This sword not of this world, not out to cut to bleed.
But this innocent man didn't wish to realize,
What prize he would pay.
In midst of this battle, recieving the swiftest,
Blows from his enemy,
This soldier just kept getting hurt.
Five, six and seven more blows made him hit back,
This soldier proudly used his blunt sword,
Till his nemesis bearing a razor sharp one,
Came along and challenged the already fallen one,
Who gave a swift plunge into his enemy's heart.
But the enemy did not stagger or fall.
Neither did the soldier with the blunt sword.
This soldier's enemy left the battleground,
When he saw that the one with the blunt sword,
Knew all along the possibility of his death.
Still he fought, so he himself could die,
Which the other soldier was saddened by that man's stance.
He told that man, 'if we all fought battles with a blunt
sword,
Then we would all truly win,
For the battleground would know no mortality.
He further told him, 'because of you, your side
Truly wins. But so does our.
We love you,
Blunt edged sword soldier man.'
poem by Vera Sidhwa
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In A Soldier...You Will Find...
In a soldier...
Loyalty and strength you see.
In a soldier...
Discipline, bravery.
In a soldier...
A world that is free.
In a soldier..
Sacrifice, so the world can be free.
In a soldier...
No compromise.
In a soldier...
Courage in his eyes.
In a soldier...
A special bond.
In a soldier...
Iraq, Viet-Nam.
In a soldier...
Sad, drooped eyes.
In a soldier...
Pain, when a buddy dies.
In a soldier...
Terrible places.
In a soldier...
Tough, grim faces.
In a soldier...
Stories untold.
In a soldier...
Action makes him old.
In a soldier...
Dark, frightening nights.
In a soldier...
Missing his lovely wife.
In a soldier...
Memories of a decent life.
In a soldier...
Scars deep in the mind.
In a soldier...
An exploding mine.
In a soldier...
The thrill of leaving war.
In a soldier...
No more pains anymore.
In a soldier...
No more tears.
In a soldier...
Leaving war, after a long, trying year.
poem by Philip Lore
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Soldier's Tree
They call this tree the Soldier's Tree
It honours one whose life blood was shed
A victim of the First World War
'Lest we forget our soldier dead'.
I read the plaque nailed to the tree
It stated his date of birth and name
A tree to honour his bravery
But to dead soldier what use fame? .
I see he was just seventeen
So young so very young to die
Those who sent him to fight in war
Must share blame for death of the boy.
Fighting more than half a World away
And at the end what was his gain?
Gunned down by one he'd never known
Hope death was quick without much pain.
How can one that you've never known
Ever become your enemy?
Those who send men to die in wars
Of guilt must not be made feel free.
I read the plaque on Soldier's Tree
On war memorial avenue
A lad who died at seventeen
Gunned down by one he never knew.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Mother’s Cry of Late
Where for art thou, soldier?
Out East? West? –
And when? –
What part your rabid history?
And why? –
What wrought your destiny? –
For whom
You’d wreak your enmity –
I crave your fate to pen!
What comprehension of the
Order? –
‘Listen up! you men!
Raze to ground the taken land!
See they die and e’er you’ll stand, for
Death is but a grain of sand –
The mighty triumph, medal grand!
Now go you well!
Amen! ’
What sight upon the bloody lie
Of war? – your doubtful fate.
‘Where for art thou, soldier? ’ –
Your mother’s cry of late.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Christmas Song
She was his girl, he was her boyfriend
Shed be his wife, and make him her husband.
A surprise on the way any day any day
One healthy little giggling, dribbling baby boy
The wisemen came, three made their way
To shower him with love while he lay in the hay
Shower him with love, love, love
Love,love,love
Love,love was all around.
Not very much of his childhood was known
Kept his mother mary worried always out on his own
He met another mary, who for a reasonable fee,
Less than reputable was known to be
His heart was full of love, love, love
Love, love, love
Love, love was all around.
When jesus christ nailed to his tree
Said oh daddy-o, I can see how it all soon will be
I came to shed a little light on this darkening sea
Instead I fear Ive spilled the blood of my children all around
The blood of my children all around
The blood of my childrens all around.
So Im told, so the story goes
The people he knew were less than golden-hearted
Gamblers and robbers,
Drinkers and jokers, all soul searchers
Like you and me, like you and me
Rumors insisted that he soon would be
For his deveations taken into custody
By the authorities, less informed than he
Drinkers and jokers, all soul searchers
Searching for love, love, love
Love, love, love
Love, love was all around.
Preparations were made for a celebration day
He said eat this bread but think of it as me
Drink this wine and dream it will be the blood of our children all around
The blood of our children all around
The blood of our children all around
Father up above
Why in all this hatred do you fill me up with love, love, love
Love, love, love
Love, love is all around
Father up above
Why in all this hatred do you fill me up with love, fill me love, love, yeah
Love, love, love
Love, love, and the blood of our children all around.
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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