The soldier has a family, friends, and hopes
The day their past has no place, is the day humanity dies.
Yet there is hope, for the soldier will never forget their past,
Ironic that the harbringer of death they carry can
cause their enemys past to mean nothing.
Irreparable devestation has no home,
simply less meaning as their story unfolds
As the soldier walks in the valley of death,
their soul calls for comfort of home and hearth.
Fears and hopes as white as bone,
on their canvas they'll be forever shown.
As they walk the hazards of life and limb,
they'll rue the day when they let their comrades down.
They're actions paint the canvas shades of pain,
and they're actions reach farther than hate.
Artists of their country, haulers of hope, and shields from destruction,
the soldier forever stands on guard, ready to pledge their soul
on the canvas of their country.
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