A Soldier's Pink Door

The death door that confused

and left me breathless,

without an essence

for the salvation to my demise.

I looked for the key

to the chalice and swallowed

the venom that intoxicated my life.

Behind the insanity from the pain

and the insufferable ache,

which tired my bones.

A soldier's pink door where everything

seemed calm.

I yearn to go back but is too late,

the ice has melted and the path was erased.

Useless hours and countless days,

spent in the mourning

of a careless face.

Encouraged by the bravery

I once knew,

now just a cower

for my own disgrace.

I pace the entry of an empty place,

wishing to get out but am too afraid.

Anger and rage overpowers me,

raping my soul

and leaving me victimized.

I feel the lost of not anything

I could be,

but bitterness for something

I will miss.

The entire scent

that once made me high

is now the putrid smell

of an empty lie.

The door is locked

and I am trapped inside,

and my madness is longing

for a touch.

I hear the laugh

of stumping feet,

happy to drain

every part of me.

Slaving and taking

is all that they want,

is never enough

and is never enough.

The soldier is resting

for his country will not cry.

He yearns for a touch

to feel alive.

Close the entry and seal the gates,

pull down the curtains

and let me rest.

Bring down the army

and stay up guard,

the flag is half lifted

holding my pride.