How? When? Where do you become a soldier?
Daily, continually placing you in harms way? Continually offering up your most prized possession. The one you’ve safeguarded away. It’s like after years one day you wake up, you find yourself battered and bruised. Scratched, and cut from crawling thru the bush to find what you said you wouldn’t lose. Exhausted, weary from to many battles. Armed and alone, where you stand the ground starts to rattle. Hearing the tanks around you, growing ever near, surly not that far. Standing on the front lines, shell-shocked, while emotional and physical fragments scar. Lunging for the foxhole…. Lying perfectly still.
Taking another look and realizing that these wounds are for real. No longer able to take the attack that the enemies have sent, you know you’re out of ammo… you’re done… Completely spent.
by, Milly Rachel