The grass smelled red

As the gallant warrior bled

The dirt smelled of white stained

As he was pained

He laid as he was about to fade

his soul was to be set free

but he knew he could never be

as the one good son

he thought about all the hurt

as he sat in the dirt

he thought about his wife

and the rest of his life

all of the strife,

but as he died he gripped a picture

of the fixture of his life,

his son

the only one

who he would ever change for

but as he hit the floor he screamed “I’m sorry!”

for all the secrets kept,

he gripped his side

and thought about how he’d lied

to his family

for he wasn’t a soldier,

but an assassin

a liar

a traitor

a thief

his beileifs

were no more than leaves

floating in the breeze

but this time he fought through all the lies

and found

solid ground

his final words were, “please forgive me”

as he left his host

and gave up the ghost.

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