Battlescars

Eve 3/4/96 6:40pm

A soldier stands and looks around,
Over the littered battleground.
She finally wonders at the cost,
Of the battles and lives both won and lost.

Stripped of her armor, she views her soul,
The scars she's taken since she was whole,
Each life a line, a tear, a rent,
In her spiritual firmament.

And then she sees peace in other men,
A different view, a different ken,
Understands at last, their point is right,
Honoring life, while refusing to fight.

Yet, this soldier has come a long, long way,
Fighting each and every day,
A struggle to obtain a certain goal
In which the soldier would feel whole.

And among the dead and scars she stands,
The survivor over conquored lands,
And though she finds peace might just do,
She still prefers her point of view.