In an empty field a young boy stands,

His stance proof of his birth

Into times of war and conflict.

He stands firm, his feet steadfast,

And his shoulders thrown back

Just as his father taught him to;

His father, who was his greatest hero

And the strongest warrior of all,

Left and gone to fight in the war

But the memory of his weary yet kind face

Always fresh in the mind of his son.

The son now stands alone

With naught but the lessons of his father

To carry him through his loneliness:

A warrior never shows weakness;

He never shows pain, even if that pain

Is tearing him apart from the inside;

He fights to the very end

Because he has air in his lungs

And a battle cry in his soul.

The boy faces the open emptiness

Of the windswept fields and sky around

With the courage his father taught him.

He breathes in shakily,

And with all the force he can muster

He yells out as loudly as he can,

His cry carrying through time and space,

Beyond the fields and the sky

And past the tears he bravely ignores-

For father said to always stay strong-

To where the unheard voice of a child's heart

Calls out its own desperate battle cry:

"Daddy, come home."