Somewhere under this same sky,
Far away in a foreign land.
A dedicated soldier fights,
Abiding to military command.

Where death is true reality,
And his own life is at stake.
Fighting there for freedom,
For another country's sake.

He puts up a brave front,
Though he's filled with fear.
The face of death that lies before him,
Is unbelievably vivid and so clear.

Seeing and doing things,
That he will never forget.
Out of his sense of duty,
With his own sanity at threat.

Yet with a watchful eye,
He loyally stands at guard.
His once lively spirit broken,
And his soul forever scarred.

He has freely chosen this life,
And he holds no regret.
Stealing along through the night,
Is his darkened silhouette.

He fights for the freedom of others,
With honour and with pride.
A volunteer for humanity,
Putting his own life aside.

Trying to stay alive and safe,
In fox holes of sand.
As the terrorizing sounds of war,
Echo loudly across foreign land.

With dirt upon his face,
And sometimes little to eat.
Where sleep is a luxury,
And him so weary and beat.

Back at home is his mother
Who fears for his life.
Not wanting for her son,
All the terror, turmoil and strife.

On Christmas day at home,
There will be an empty chair.
One less plate setting,
And fingerprint less shining silverware.

With her head bowed loyally,
His mother will say a prayer.
To ask her son to come back home,
She knows to him would be unfair.

She'll pray for his safety,
As well as all the others.
Be it someone else's sons and daughters,
Fathers, mothers, sisters and brothers.

For she knows all too well,
Of the heartache, pain and sorrow.
Wondering if their loved ones,
Will live to see tomorrow.

Her heart will be heavily burdened,
And sadness will set in.
She'll put up a brave face,
And she'll manage a lifeless grin.

Far away in a foreign land,
A soldier's tears silently fall.
All the joyous past Christmases,
With a heavy heart he does recall.

Please Father he prays,
Take care of my family and friends.
And help them understand,
That I'll be home when this war ends.

This is where I am needed most,
And this is where I must be.
So all the men, women and children,
Can be safe and live free.

I don't know what lies before me,
My future is unknown.
If I must die I ask Dear Father,
Please be there,
Don't let me die alone.

©Elizabeth Ann Bushey
November ~ 24 ~ 2006©
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