The sun rose one Tuesday morning,
I embraced my loved ones, their warmth I traded for the cold outdoors.
Unaware of the trials ahead, I marched,
Taking the path set before me, though doubts welled up like a turbulent spring
Had to keep a straight face just like a straight string.
It didn't take long...
The Wars came knocking head-on.
The call to arms tore the silence like rending an old garment,
My heart jolted with fear, tried to sink into my skin but never found shelter.
Shelter, I never got find in the wild and warring fields.
Right before my eyes, our comrades, friends, husbands fell breathless by the hissing mark of the bullet
I could feel the stench of thick darkness despite basking beneath the scorching sun.
Their memories won't be a meme,
Their sacrifice, our burden we must swear to keep.
Here's a tale to our Sons,
Our nation and Kings,
Our father's and wives
Our friends and comrades,
Remember the blood of your soldiers, brothers and stranger.
For indeed it's the nourishment of the soil at your borders
The fuel for the unity and peace you enjoy.
..... The end
Commentary
This piece was inspired by the story of a dear friend currently serving his nation the North-eastern part of Nigeria, particular Borno State.
Conversing with him over the phone one Wednesday evening opened my eyes to the burdens and fears he had even though he appeared brave in the face of death, he remained resilient, hoisting the flag of his nation in the territory of assailant.
Hope you enjoyed reading it as much I enjoyed writing it. /
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