He enters and clears a house,
Thinking of his children and his spouse.
Enemies he will find,
The massacre always on his mind.
Explosions erupt,
It makes him jump.
Shots immediately follow,
This is all hard to swallow.
“Move, move, move!” he would yell,
This is all hell.
He sees him fall, his bud,
There’s just so much blood.
Bodies litter the street,
He can feel his heart beat.
He’s so courageous but he believes not,
They were, the ones who fought.
The battle is finished,
But his spirit is diminished.
He wanted to fight, to be a warrior,
Now he’s just a mourner.
He’s now home,
Back in his own little dome.
He tries not to remember,
the horrible things that happened last September.
He misses his friends, his brothers,
He often awakes screaming from under the covers
He saw so many deceased,
He prays for them to all Rest in Peace.