They said I had the heart for it; 

my medals speak for themselves.

But after my exit, I could not speak 

for myself, or what was left of me. 

What was left from that day, 

no moment is abstract. 

A painful vision plastered in my brain, 

cementing its way through the cracks. 

Everything was covered in smoke; 

I could not bear to look in the mirror. 

Even if I did, I would look back and see nothing,

for that is all that is left of me now: 

A soldier with a steady stride, 

 never catching a break inside their head. 

A patriot who fought for freedom

 but remains shackled in chains of dread, 

visions of those dead,

the clouds overhead…

Don’t you see my wounds!? They never healed.

And darling, I know you love me, 

but it’s pathetic indeed.   

Your knight in shining armor

is gone, with just their lifeless body to honor.