Watchlords

When I found him he was dying.
He lay bleeding in the dirt.
I saw that he’d been crying,
But not from his body’s hurt.
He was wounded gravely.
Even so he forced a smile.
He was facing his fate bravely,
Leaving life in manly style.
Jacket and tags were blown away,
So I couldn’t read his name.
He motioned me to stay.
He seemed relieved I came.
“In a minute I’ll be dead,”
He spat through bubbling blood.
“I’ve got something must be said.”
He rose up in the mud.
“The enemy that’s killed me
Is lying over there.
I’m done with the hate that filled me.
Poor bastard fought me fair.”
“I wish I wasn’t going,
But I’m a soldier too.
It’s a thing soldiers are knowing.
But don’t think it will come true.”
“You know, it’s not the leaving,
That makes me feel so sad.
It’s that no one will be grieving.
I got no family, never had.”
His eyes closed for a second.
I stood to let him go.
Then he looked up and beckoned.
I knelt and he whispered low.
“I won’t cross nobody’s mind.
Won’t be no one at my grave.
So, if you’d be so kind,
There’s a favor that I crave.”
“Look at me quick again.
I’m goin’ fast I know you see.
I am a man who once has been.
Please…..Remember me.”
And I do.
(Credit: The Havok Journal)