Photo by Brandon Holmes on Unsplash
I wander the halls of this place.
It's a VA hospital.
He's old and drained,
a decorated soldier in his day.
I sit and talk to him.
Even at this point in his life,
he still struggles with the lives he took--
in service to his country.
I ask him how many.
He answers four.
Then he asks me if I was a soldier.
I tell him I still am in my way.
And that it is difficult being one.
Doing what needs to be done in the battle of things.
Whether one takes four lives or billions of lives,
it is not easy, but you go on.
I watch as he starts to move to the next place.
I allow him his entry.
And I continue to wander the halls,
On to the next.
For I am the soldier,
they call Death.
About the Creator
Wm Kucera
https://www.facebook.com/WmKucera
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