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The darkness is coming.
The rain still is falling.
The lightning is closer
With each passing breath.
Yet, I remain here,
Exhausted and lonely;
Waiting for angels
With news of my death.

We left home as children,
Most eager for manhood.
We set out to earn it
With bullet and blade.
Not so much scared as just
Tired and homesick;
Reflecting back now
On decisions we made.

Sitting in silence,
I feed off my memories.
I set my resolve
From the well in my soul.
We stand up as one
And, determined, march forward;
Forgetting our thoughts
As we march for our goal.

Copyright © 1997 by Randal A. Burd, Jr.

Publications: Abilene, TX: The Golden Wings of Time, Creative Arts & Science Enterprises, 1997; Rolla, MO: Southwinds, Fall 1998

Accomplishment of Merit, Creative Arts & Science Enterprises, Contest #2, March-April 1997

Author's Note: Poems viewed here are the latest versions and are not necessarily word-for-word as published.