The Searching Soilder


If this life is what we made it, than why do we cry?
You hear the voice inside your head whispering to awake alive.
Each day brings joy but darkness doesn't subside.
You want to know, you want to learn but your thoughts are left to die.
I see the faces, I watch in despair.
I wonder who they are, what's there story, they come from somewhere.
Away you go, away from home, a journey a few have walked;
Searching hopelessly you can see it how they move, wanting a purpose to thrive-
Will they ever be understood?
Such a beautiful place once, and such a beautiful place it will be.
Why is desperation a motivation to go on?
When all is said and done, the lucky one will take it all
You work so hard to find a purpose, a reality to it all.
When really its your mind that has control of how hard you fall.
Are full hearts empty, or are empty hearts full?
What is it that they want out of life and why isn't it ever good?
'Oh help me father, send my love to my mother and sister'
I hear the voices you cry, I see the salvation you thrive.
The question, the doubt, the confusion over taking,
left a lost cause-- a story in the making.
Leaving all you know, all you have, a thousand miles away.
To feel lost and abandoned and you just can't find the words to say.
It's nothing more than gratitude that will soon come your way.
Shrug dawn to dust with a laughter and a smile.
Not for the thank you, the fortune, or the rememberance awaiting.Rather the phone you pick up after you hear it's ringing--
'I love you, just come home safely."

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