Joseph T. Renaldi
A Dying Soldier
A soldier was ordered into battle to face the foe,
His mind devoid of sensation - his body numb,
And his rifle fixed with a bayonet in front of him,
Charged the rampart hoping the conflict is won.
His fate is dependent upon the success of the mission,
The mark of death had been cast upon his head,
Severely wounded by an unrelenting hostility
On the battlefield where his body profusely bled
No more transitory orders - no more fighting,
No longer can be heard the eerie sound of artillery,
Only a mumbling of words - crying out in pain,
Hallucinating of love ones vague and dreary.
Shortly he will succumb from his ghastly wounds
In a hostile and foreign land across the vast sea.
Though he is dead - his spirit will live on forever,
His body to be buried in his hometown's cemetery.
The sound of TAPS on a bugle is heard nearby,
Symbolic of death for his country with the highest laud.
The Chaplain says a final prayer- many tears are shed
As the soldier's body is laid to rest beneath the sod.
An important question is still to be answered,
' Why was this soldier chosen to die on foreign soil? '
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