The Soldier

Stanza 22

Clawing through the smokey haze
The rough terrain of bodies slain
I see a hill emerge above the rest
The sun dipping to mark it west

I start the climb before I’m ready
The incline steep, my steps unsteady
But when I reach the crest I know
That this was far from our final blow

But for now upon the top I stand 
The flag of peace tall in my hand
I plant it where the blood won’t dry
To remind us all our cause can’t die