Soon the sun will set,
Upon me once again,
For what may be,
My last sunrise,
I won't, live to see.

Nightmares,
Of the advancing army,
Bearing Hell and Brimstone,
With thunder and lightning,
Falling from the heavens.

I find myself alone,
At an out post,
With a rifle in hand,
With no knowledge,
Of its use.

Yesterday,
I was a shepherd,
Tending my own sheep,
Please my God,
Don't let me fall asleep.

The memories, I possess,
Of my wife and children,
Was of fear,
And full of anguish tears.

As I was removed from them,
Forcefully drafted,
Into an unwanted battle.

Exhausted I fell asleep,
To see another sunrise,
The horizon was bursting,
With bright orange.

Rays of hope, reached out,
Embracing me,
Like God's arms reaching,
For my soul.

At a distance,
Men were approaching,
Carrying back packs,
Loaded like pack mules.

Well discipline, in appearance,
Walking in tactical formations,
With these men, I have no quarrels,
So down, I lay my weapon.

Empty hands I raise,
As I recite a prayer,
Hoping my approaching foe,
Will be merciful.

By: William Bonilla
3/07/03