With the setting sun, the sky burns red.
A perfect reflection of the crimson that flows on the ground.
I stop, wiping the blood and sweat from my forehead.
Looking around, I see waste and devastation,
Bodies covering the earth.
And my soul cries out,"Why?"
They say to the victor goes the spoils,
But what spoils are worth this?
Death follows the warrior.
Standing here now, I long to leave it behind.
When will the endless fighting end?
Will it only cease when I meet my final fate?
I tire of the endless struggle.
For me, see only one way out.
As the sadness of life most precious lost
Overtakes my heart and soul,
I draw my blade and prepare
To bring my lonely existence to a close.
As I ready my blade for the task,
I hear a sound and look up.
There amidst the fallen I see,
A vision of heaven made just for me.
The dagger falls from my hand,
She takes my breath away.
As she slowly nears me,
I take in her beauty and goodness.
I look at my hands, my body,
My own blood mingling with that of others,
And know that I can offer her
Nothing but pain.
She lays her hand gently on my shoulder,
Looks in my eyes and smiles.
And in that moment, wind blows clear my memory,
I can see the pages of life turn.
Past no longer matters,
For once I know where home is, now, here in this moment.
And as quickly as the shadows of fear and pain arise,
They recede into the haven of her tender, loving embrace.
This lost warrior has finally been found.