A boy soldier is marching to war
with arrow in hand ready to soar.
This boy has no fear marking his face.
He steadies his hand; readies his gaze.
The arrow flies to destiny’s flight; breathless boy in the darkening night.
His aim is true, the target secure.
My breathless boy is so fearless and pure.
The war rages on and arrows fly.
He braces his heart prepared to die.
Strength and terror an unlikely gift;
Prepared his soul for this coming rift.
He raises his eyes and clearly sees
Freedom coming; he falls to his knees.
Thankful for all that’s given to him,
The sun fades away growing so dim.
His father comes and grasping his hand,
Leads him to bed his day was so grand.
He dreams of peace not his pretend wars,
With wings of eagles, my boy now soars.
