Fighting for his country was just a dream
A young boys' dream whose eyes were set agleam

He wanted to feel all of the glory
To have others know him and his story
To reward strangers with heroic deeds,
And his country by planting freedom seeds

This dream would have a chance of being alive
When he returned from war, having survived
But these tales he was not willing to share
The memories would be too much to bear

The singing of anguished cries were once real
The lives played on a harp by Death's big wheel
The footsteps, the gunshots would harmonize
With the faint heartbeats and the still doll-eyes

He tries to think of why he didn't die
As his dreams play out a warrior's lullaby