Soldiers

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  • Political

    Soldiers

    Broken bones twisted, burned leave stench of hate.
    Bodies burned in my mind, ghosts that will never leave.
    My spirit still fights within, visits still hurts.

    A man hurts, and tries to forget.
    No regret, for freedom and family.
    I pay the price, when they haunt me.

    Things that can't be discussed, eyes tell.
    I knew the price, could be life.
    Or for life, we all still fight.

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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    Astraeos’s Poems (17)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Soldiers 0
    Spirits call 1
    My Shadows 1
    The view is forever from here 0
    Penetration of the Soul 0
    Primal 1
    Fear is Ignorance 0
    Wandering Hearts 1
    No getting back 0
    Stepping Stone.. 0
    Jaded 0
    Emerald Eyes 1
    God's Hand 0
    Lost Souls 0
    Epilogue to a Heart 0
    Forever Love 0
    Gypsy Traum 1

    Astraeos’s Friends (3)