I stand high upon the castle wall <br />Looking over the parapet <br />At the grassy plain below <br />And the distant misty, undulating hills <br />From whence will come the enemy <br />We've had word; they're on their way <br />I wish that they would hurry up <br />Let the battle begin; I am ready <br />I feel strong, though I have to accept <br />That this day may be my last <br />So I quietly utter yet another <br />One last, final prayer <br />But as so many must also be praying <br />I just hope mine will be heard <br />They may defeat us; they are many <br />What then, death, torture or slavery <br />A common soldier; I'm not worth anything <br />Therefore no imprisonment for me <br />On the hope of a ransom being paid <br />I look to either side at my companions <br />I get a grin, a smile, even a forced laugh <br />Such bravedo, none of it true <br />Then when I look to the front again <br />I can see the enemy coming quickly <br />Much faster than was ancitipated <br />And I know that now <br />No matter how much we may grin or laugh <br />We are, each of us, wishing it was still yesterday.<br /><br />Marilyn Shepperson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-soldier-9/
