In the quiet of the dawn, where shadows play and linger,
A soldier stands alone, his thoughts his only finger.
Clad not in armor, nor with weapons in his hold,
But in the grip of his own mind, a story left untold.

His battlefield is silent, yet it echoes loud and clear,
A war within his spirit, facing shadows, facing fear.
Each memory a bullet, each doubt a sharpened blade,
In the trenches of his thoughts, a relentless siege is laid.

He marches through the darkness, through the labyrinth of his soul,
Searching for the light, to make his broken spirit whole.
A warrior not of flesh, but of resilience and of mind,
Battling unseen enemies, that within his heart he finds.

His courage lies in facing, what the eye cannot behold,
In standing firm when haunted by the stories left untold.
In every step he falters, in each tear that he may shed,
Lies the strength of countless battles, in the silence of his head.

So, here's to the soldier, waging wars that none can see,
To the battles fought in silence, for his mind, for his to be.
May he find his peace in chaos, his calm in stormy seas,
For in conquering his demons, he finds his deepest peace.
J.L.Cunningham