"Prayer for My Soldier"
Your music
brought tears
from the gods,
but they replaced
piano keys
with bullets;
violin strings
with garotte wires.
If only I
could take your place.
You were not made
for blood.
I was not made
for peace.
Where do you go,
little brother?
Don't let them
wash away your song
in desert sands.
Author's Note: My brother is now officially in Iraq, outside of Baghdad. As far as I know, he's attached to the 82nd Airborne. He went on his first mission yesterday, as a gunner guarding a convoy. The last gunner didn't fare so well, and that's all we know. Please join me in wishing him well, and wishing him home.
Tags: