The Last Soldier Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

The last Soldier
From the narrow back streets in a town of conflict came
A whispering, the great man has finally died and muted
Voices grew lauder till old buildings shook and dogs howled
Imitating the humans in a jubilation they didn´t understand.
For eight years this heavy shadow of the past had hovered
As an ill omen and cowardly politicians found refuge and
Excuses for doing nothing, trying to find peace and fairness.
There will be display of mourning and his departure will be
Recorded in international presses despite the fact his nation is
Small, yet has unequalled nuclear power in the region.

Not only his detractors, on the other side of walls of trepidation,
Was glad to see him go, eight years a slowly rotting corpse kept
Alive, silent day and night. How tortured this man must have been
Endlessly waiting in the anteroom of hell.