You had taken a step onto that bone-dry terrain,
your weapon attached to your side
as sweat cascaded down from your cap above.
One last glance behind to observe your platoon,
the men you had grown to consider brothers
throughout the difficult time of transition.
Chinook blades blaring above your head,
the faint sound of nearby explosion penetrating your ears.
Throughout all the dust clouds,
hidden fear,
and streams of red,
you found yourself running towards death.
Your mother had pleaded for you not to go,
droplets raining down from her eyes as she clung to your shoulders.
Your father, stone cold expression laid on his face,
wishing you had never followed in his footsteps.
I-
did not try to defer you from your decision.
You were as stubborn as a bull, I could not persuade you,
nor did I want to.
This was your decision to make.
Life had taken a toll on you.
From the numerous amounts of judgement
and accusations coming from your hometown,
you had decided to leave that life behind.
The photos upon the walls can only do so much. Your remaining
cologne on the t-shirt I wear to bed
clings to my heart with an iron grip.
Your side of the bed cold like a blanket of snow,
the surviving uniforms neatly folded
within the drawer.
Leaving flowers on your grave,
mascara running down the apples of my cheeks.
I know you didn\'t mean to leave me here alone,
but it feels like heaven\'s just too far away.