19. The Dark Soldier.

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Feet together, back straight, rifle on his shoulder,
Standing to attention, this dark soldier.

Rows of men from his battalion,
Shining honours on each medallion.
Men he joked with,
Marched with,
Smoked with,
Men whom he had fought alongside,
And other men he knew who’d died;
They stood united on this day,
When this dark soldier had passed away.
Rows of faces held high and strong,
Full dress uniform,
Identical stance,
They stand with pride and respect.
He stands with them, this dark soldier,
In the gap they left for him.

Rows ahead, at the fore,
His family support each other
As the coffin is interred.
He wants to stand with his mother,
To shake his father’s hand
And tell them that he died for his cause,
That he is at peace.
But the world is still at war,
And he stands in line with his men,
This dark soldier standing to attention
Has a bullet in his chest
And an army-issue expression.
He was a soldier before anything,
His family would not recognize
The man he’d become
The day he set foot on the sand.

With heavy, weary eyes he watches the casket sink
And he begins to fade.
They do not see him,
But the brothers in line on either side
Feel a little colder
As his image diffuses into the autumn sunlight.

Feet together, back straight, rifle on his shoulder,
Standing to attention, this dark soldier.

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