"Soldier in the Meadow"

This is a poem of protest...

"Soldier in the Meadow"

In the meadow, a soldier stands
Blood on the boots, blood on the hands
Under his feet the grass is burned
Within the village, a lesson learned

Ten thousand miles away from home...
The soldier is lost as he begins to roam
The sand in front of him creates a sea
It seems all this war would set one free

But all the soldier ever sees...
Is betrayal, greed,and tyranny

And so the soldier marches on...
Never to return
The sand flows on...
As the cities burn

It is better to fade away than rust...
So the soldier marches on, looking for a soul to trust
He knows acceptance will pave a straighter way...
So he keeps searching for freedom until this very day

And now as his compatriots arrive back home...
He still searches, yes he still roams
Let us bring freedom to the soldier...
Let us bring the soldier back home

---B.L. Houghtalin