waiting, waiting, just waiting for the battle to start.
just thinking of how i should dart,
across the open field.
wondering if this is going to be my final battle.
getting so scared that you can hear your bones rattle.
when the battles down,
and you see your son, you stop and give thanks.
until you go to your friends family,
with dogtags, a letter, and a flag.
only knowing one day,
your son will have to do the same.
all this on the day of my final battle.
to all fallen soldiers may they r.i.p.

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