The ashen ruins that lay a waste,
I turn away, in my haste.
The stars cast a pleasant glow,
in the midst I see a true hero.
In the dusty air which stings my eyes,
I lay down my gun and begin to cry.
My heart is searching,
longing for your touch.
But I’m trapped in this world of hate.
All around me I hear the noise,
the battle rages on;
I have no choice.
I stand up tall and carry on;
ever a soldier,