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The Idle Soldier
February 17, 2014
My men, we cannot run when
we are so short on sleep why is it
we cannot fight, listless on our knees
to meet our absent king who gave us
sword and serpent tongue
but worn is all we’ve caught this night
at last our luck has run.
I cannot see the light of day, so
fruitless, shall we just move on
my darling cries we are thus dead
your skin so gray, and I so cold
let us take our broken luck
and continue down our bloody road.
© James M., Glendale, AZ
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