He ran, and ran, and ran

In total darkness, he fled

With no strategy, no plan

Not an inkling of what will lie ahead

He wanted to keep running

Never turning to look back

The sins he tried to bury kept coming

So depictive, so vivid...

He’d told himself to forget

After all, he’d been a patriot, serving his country to his best

He was loyal, skillful,

His superiors were impressed

Yet deep within, came a wave of bitter, never-ending regret

In some cases, he defended the hopeless

In others, he’d hoped to kill the defenseless

It was all so confusing, something he’d never quite figured out

If only he’d somehow found an alternative route

He dug his hands deep into his hair

And crumpled unto the ground, so lifeless and bare

After all these years…

He still couldn’t hold back his tears

He tried to cover his ears

To block out the blood-curdling screams

The ones that haunted him every night in his dreams

But they echoed only louder

He tried to close his eyes

But even then, he saw splotches of red

The innocent blood his cruel sins had shed

This unfortunate tale of misery was bound to never end

As he walked, he came by a babbling brook.

Sun-kissed, dreamy, yet far from still.

He longed to be shrouded by a blanket of its luscious waves,

Alas! It was his final will.

As he bent down to take his last breath

Surrendering finally, to the merciless fangs of death

He saw a familiar man staring right back at him

From across the glistening waters of the placid stream

This was a rather fine young man

With ash brown hair and complementing blue eyes

His cheeks were dimpled, skin, glossy and tan

He wore a friendly smile and was bulky in size

He was staring at his 30-year-old self

The daring youth he had once been

Optimistic. afraid of nothing

Ready to shake the world by the throat

Ready to be someone the world had never seen

Then the war came and turned his heart ice-cold.

Took everything away from him, put his dreams on hold.

His fiery passions were watered

Hopes and ambitions, slaughtered

Now, not even yet at 60, he was a living dead

Those that saw him, got the hint and fled

His clothes were dusty, fingers chewed and knotty

His eyes were jaded and filled with sorrow,

Gone was every bit of hope for tomorrow

He looked at the young man once again

His eyes glistened with tears, he finally understood

This man had enlisted because he wanted to

He had felt proud at the prospect of fighting for his country

He didn’t have to feel guilty, he didn’t want anyone’s pity

Someone had to sacrifice,

Someone had to be at the battlefront and pay the price

It was okay to cry, ok to miss those that died

But, the healing process will soon begin

Emotional scars will fade, prayers will be made

Hope will bubble within again

He remembered the most intense moments at the battlefront.

Though painful, he was grateful.

What an honour it was to serve the country he loved.

As he pondered these things, there was not a hint of regret.

He wasn't ready to die anymore, at least not yet.