He watches the sunrise with his head held high. The taste of the whiskey on his lips, makes his throat dry. The stories of war don't make him cry. There are other battles that makes his soul die. Like torn pieces of paper his heart does break, his recollection of her makes him see the truth of his blunder. She sits and does wonder what went wrong, he sits back listening to her favourite song. She once panicked at the thought of him coming home late. His favourite bar made him stand drunk at the gate. God brought them together yet fate, tore them apart. Left behind are their memories and pieces of a broken heart. He picked up a gun and joined a battalion in battle. She stay home waiting for a letter that would make her heart rattle. He did write everyday cause he missed her so. She would read them cry as time carefully did move and grow. Slow was the poison of them being away. He won his ranks and her memories started to draw blanks. She one day met someone that was always there. Loving and always proving he cared. Scared was her heart to love someone new. She did find her love began to bloom. A solider fought to stay alive to see her again. She woke up everymorning with someone else's last name. Her letters stopped and she continued to collect his. She'd read them with love as she always did. It took but only a while, to move on from his love so desolate and wild. She now bore someone else's child. His war was won and in a wheelchair he stood sober at the gate. A barren home which left him feeling less great. He heard the neighborhood whispers of her new found love. He witnessed it with a smile as their paths crossed after years of passing by. He went back to his house with haunting memories of her presence that once filled his life. He went out to war to make money and her his wife. He sat back with a bottle of gin and recollections of his life. He lived in desolation and cried himself to sleep. His life, legs and love he couldn't keep. Withering like a leaf on a winter's season. He lived now without any reason. He'd secretly admired her beauty as her daughter played in the park. He'd wish she was near him as he sat by his window in the dark. Staring at the night sky and thinking of the twinkling in her eyes. Everytime he'd say I love you more than my own life. He'd hold her hand and kiss her forehead as if she were his wife. His fingertips upon her face as he'd find the tenderness of her skin to trace. She'd lay back down with her head on his chest as he'd smell the aroma of her hair to place his soul to sleep. His last breath ran out of his lungs with her memories to keep. His burial was grand and everyone was present including the one woman he loved and couldn't keep. He died in his sleep to her favourite song playing on the radio. The heavens opened their door to a solider of love.
Written and composed by
Timothy Justin Rudolph Rodricks
