Epitaph For A Weary Soldier

Cold nostalgia chills me numb

Vapidly roaming my home

Yet, I am too grown it seems

To be running my hands over ramshackle dreams

Heavy burdens I've become to acquire

Are far off now from what I desire

But my taciturn expression does not alter

Though my faith inside has long since faltered

The indigenous mortification resting inside

Is comfort now, yet it continues to hide

As I've grown older, the world is less scary

But now a day, I am tired and wary

My morals rest on alleged injustice

And I continue on, anything but gutless

Articulating each word that is born from my tongue

To illicitly survive the unfairness that comes

Ascertaining strides down desolate paths

Freedom from this will come when I pass

My vehement heart is pounding it out

This is for you, my Jem and my Scout.