On The Way To Paris

A modern day knight
in shinning armor,
for his country.
His official passport wallpapered
with truths untold.
At what cost,
his family?
his soul ?
Saving lives but not
his own.
He dreams out loud of fishing
with his boys,
a snapshot of their life.
His voice trails,
"I lost my family" he said,
defeated,
silent.
Focus the eye on the prize,
but the prize is gone.
It belongs to a man sleeping
with the wife he loved,
raising his children.
Time awaits for no one,
the price was paid,
as the smell of war lingers,
in his senses.
The smell of burnt bodies seared into his memory.
The pain of young fallen soldiers,
he masks the pain,
but I hear it loud and clear,
sharp as a knife ,
the words scar my soul.