The grass smelled red
As the gallant warrior bled
The dirt smelled of white stained
As he was pained
He laid as he was about to fade
his soul was to be set free
but he knew he could never be
as the one good son
he thought about all the hurt
as he sat in the dirt
he thought about his wife
and the rest of his life
all of the strife,
but as he died he gripped a picture
of the fixture of his life,
his son
the only one
who he would ever change for
but as he hit the floor he screamed “I’m sorry!”
for all the secrets kept,
he gripped his side
and thought about how he’d lied
to his family
for he wasn’t a soldier,
but an assassin
a liar
a traitor
a thief
his beileifs
were no more than leaves
floating in the breeze
but this time he fought through all the lies
and found
solid ground
his final words were, “please forgive me”
as he left his host
and gave up the ghost.