The dust settles, back upon the earth,
dry, barren, covering
the dried blood of the fallen;
For another’s ideals, we give our life,
alive, like a flower,
now scattered like its pollen.
By my brother’s side, we’ve fought through hell
killed, rejoiced, and in
another’s name, vied for victory;
Motes rest upon my open unseeing eyes,
but I will walk into Valhalla,
chosen by the Valkyrie.
Would that I could see her face again,
smiling, loving, but
she lives, and I must move on,
Until the day, when I shall be joined,
by her and the one
she raises, my boy, my son!
Poem copyright protected, and the property of Rambling Poetry, and not to be used without permission.