No Beach to Walk On |
The day, it is, so very long, and slowly getting colder; And terrible are, these ordeals, that I have come to shoulder. Some days the pressure, is so great, enough to take my breath; For my choice, can be the difference, between their life or death. My thoughts wander, aimlessly, seeking the answers I must find; I gently close, my weary eyes, to repress my tortured mind. Some time to shed, the pending hardships, I know that I must face; And just for a while, leave behind, this wretched accursed place. I long to feel, the gentle breeze, blow across my troubled brow; To walk the sparkling sands of time, to do it here and now. For just a few hours, feel the warmth, of a tropical sun; And amble along, a quiet beach, until the day is done. Opening my eyes, waiting still, the burdens of my command; The time has come, and I must perform, the job that is at hand. How many men, will I send to die, before the wars are gone; Too many I fear, sealed by fate, alas, no beach to walk on. |
Fox © June 1994 (revised 9/1994) |