Transgression of Purity

I wrote this poem for my friend, who went with me to Iraq and spent every waking moment with me. We watched each other's backs and I was the one who failed to bring him home alive.

The Transgression of Purity

you lay silent in wait on top of that hill,
your eyes glazed over, you no longer live,
you only exist, and you exist to kill.

your thoughts wonder beyond those of home,
your thoughts are those of the monotone,
drilling your nerves till you feel no pain,
until your as strong as your unknown name.

your attention focused on a single voice,
of a man hardened by war yet has no choice,
but to sweat that bullet across his brow,
the results of his actions seem clearer now.

nineteen young and still innocent in mind,
his heart still fresh, spirit still kind,
he lays beside you ready to die,
his unwavering discipline and steady eye.

he can take the enemy with a single hand,
never stopping think of what may come,
when his sergeant salutes to the marching band.

Carried by six never judged by twelve,
brought back to your country, brought back well.
Your honor and bravery kept secret and hid,
no medals were seen when they closed the lid,
to the place you lie forever in wait,
for the rest you'll meet at that fiery gait.

Your eyes glazed over, you no longer live.
you only existed, and you existed to give.