BROTHERS IN ARMS
We ride the beast of war to its bitter end,
we are brothers in arms, on thrones we sit.
Our futures not certain, or set in stone,
and with innocence gone, we face friends at home.
They welcome us in, and with open arms,
but our thoughts fall to our brothers in arms.
Will they come home? When will that be?
Are they safe there without me?
Some of us come home earlier than others,
we are forced to leave behind our brothers.
While we wait at home in anguish,
in mourn for all the vanquished,
we think of how we fought,
for every brother at any cost.
Until the day we are reunited,
some with handshakes, and some stories,
some draped with blankets of Old Glory,
we will pray there will be no more harm,
to any more of our brothers in arms.