Young Soldier

Wake up Dragan!

Don’t you notice you’ve fallen asleep?

Thirty Years the world has changed,

Yet you remain at peace.

Your cheeks, still warm and flushed

Coated with the nectar of your soul,

Remind me of a sweet fruit,

Bashfully ripe— to be consumed.

I could stay with you forever,

Joined in this eternal slumber.

My head resting on your still chest,

As we lay silently atop the floral beds.

But you are now a fragment of life,

A forgotten breath left alone—

To disintegrate into an empty earth.

The grass of Mostar, your stiff mattress 

The bloody uniform, your only blanket.