On Death

ON DEATH

Let the lone bugle blow
For another of our warriors has fallen
A victim of his unquiet mind
Drowned in the laughter of fire filled demons
A stigma and trauma, a red raw wound
Society will not turn their eyes toward the fallen
Battle tested, scarred and battle proven
Stood proud for so long, weary and bowed
A weathered cane propped in the corner
The legacy of so tempered a man
A hole and a vacuum left
With no answers to fill or soothe
Wings of a dove given to that gentle soul
With eagles talons to fend and protect
A nature at odds, so beautifully sewn
The poles to put us at ease with mirth
My brother, my hero, my father, my charge
Your memory a tattoo on my soul
A dove and an eagle, one to keep, one to protect
One in the same for us that understood