I fight a hundred battles,
But none of them you see.
The battles that I fight
Are fought for you and me.
I walk a post through the darkest night
A post you'll never see.
The post that I walk,
I walk for you and me.
I lose more battles than I win,
And yet you live along your day.
The battles that I lose
I keep fighting because there is no other way.
I fight on ghostly battlefields
Pocked with craters filled with fear.
I take shelter in them
When the enemy draws near.
I can't see our enemy
Whose face is blurred with time.
But I pull him close to push him back
His presence is a crime.
He fights to drag me down
And take away my hope.
A hundred raging battles
a tightening noose of rope.
What value do I have
To fight for you and me?
I am the last true solider
That you will ever see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem