REFLECTIONS © 2011

In the battlefield,

I am the fallen soldier,

With the weight of the world on my shoulders,

And my soul in pieces, desolate.

Wounded by the sword of reason,

That cuts without mercy or pity,

Each blow an internal conflict,

Leaving me alone, trapped in dust.

And dead by my own conscience,

That judges me without mercy or relief,

I silently carry the sentence

Of one who sought truth and understanding.

But even fallen, there is still a flame,

A spark of one who fought for meaning,

For in the battlefield, in the mud,

The fallen soldier is never forgotten.

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