A lone soldier sits with his back angst a tree in the night. Thinking. He looks up the sky and prays. 'Will I ever get to see my wife again, and that little boy. The one with the curly brown hair, and green eyes, the one who's looking up at me. Can someday I return home?' A lone soldier speaks out 'Sometimes I can see the moon, through the burning trees and the smoke. Sometimes the sun can pierce though the fog and shine down on me. Sometimes I can actually see the stars. I've never seen anything so subtle, and so brilliant.
