Tired and Bruised

The soldier squared his shoulders,
as he slowly raised his head.
His cammo fatigues adorned,
which he wore as he slowly bled.

Standing at attention,
he stepped forward to his Lord.
His M16 by his side,
this would be his final reward.

"Step forward now, you Soldier"
His lord calmly commanded.
The man moved slowly forward,
a soldier is what he's been branded.

"Have you always given to others;
in their greatest time of need?"
His lord asked looking down,
at the man sighing on his knees.

Scruffy hair blinding his eyes,
a bruised and black face.
Words struggled from his lips,
as he sat calmly in his place.

"I had to work most holidays,
never having helped erect a tree.
And I missed my daughters birthday,
when she turned one, two and three."

"I was stationed in the desert,
for most of my young years.
For fun I'd play chess,
and drink far too much beer."

"My only true friend,
who I never had to cry for.
Was my honest and dear steel cold,
clean and oiled rifle."

"What can I really tell you,
that you already don't know?
I sacrificed my life,
for land, country, and freedom;
for things I didn't know.

As the soldier waited quietly,
for his Lord to reply.
Two Angels appeared over head,
an image ever graceful to his red,
bewildered eyes.

Each angel took an arm,
and lifted him to his feet.
His head slowly raised,
as each kissed him upon his cheek.

"If you have no place for me,
in your great and holy land.
Then it is okay my lord,
You know I will understand."

There was a silence all around the throne,
As even god took great pity.
"Walk peacefully my son" he spoke.
"Travel this road ahead, to my great and worthy city."