Portrait of a Soldier

The image of a soldier -- the image of perfection:
Not human,
Yet not machine.

Ordained with purpura poppy locks
That fly
Through that gentle wind.

Graced with crimson eyes of a hawk,
Deep with meaning,
That penetrate the soul of anyone who crosses their path.

Lips of rose,
That can produce the most docile curve,
And then the most bitter stare.

The goddess Athena,
Maintaining all feminine characteristic
With the strength of one thousand men.

But still she is blurred,
Not human,
Yet not machine.

From goddess,
She morphs,
Into the Angel of Death.

Body synched with soul,
A fearsome warrior
Leaving the forever-sleeping in her wake.

Once in a blue moon
Do they see the full extent of her power
When both body and soul sync.

Loss of all control,
But what makes this soldier perfect
Is the Ghost of a soul.

Been meaning to post this for a while. It's been sitting on my harddrive since April. I wrote this for an English poetry unit with the image of Motoko in mind. Comments are always loved!