• You there with me, holding me while I cry onto your shoulder.
    I have no reason for the pain I am feeling.
    But this time together means the world to me when I’m near you.
    Anytime when I am, or you are, away…the world just seems to end.

    Blackness, nothing,


    But…when you aren’t here, I also have something to remind me of you.
    Silly, I know, but a simple piece of cloth
    It keeps me bound to you whilst away.
    The very same piece that is blood stained from when the palm of my hand had been cut.
    The memory is vague and almost long forgotten, but still in a certain part of my mind.

    The cloth reminds me of you, it even carries your scent.
    Sweet, like cinnamon, with a hint of spiced cider and the leaves of Autumn.
    Yes, the very scent that has, and will continue to calm me through these wicked days of turmoil and confusion.


    You hold me closer, kissing my golden amber hair in a calming way.
    Whisper to me how you know everything will be alright, how you won’t leave me again.
    We both know this time is only so long lasting as that War is still ravaging and ruining the lives of everyone it touches.
    You’re only off on temporary leave, for I was in the midst of a mental collapse with you gone and all these images on the television of bombs going off in your sector.


    I thank God every day you return a letter to me, or return a rushed call.
    Anything to make me know that you are still here with me.


    You claim you won’t be leaving this world any time soon,
    Won’t be leaving <i>me</i> soon.
    But how am I supposed to believe that when you will soon be departed to that foreign land once more?
    The land where everyone fights and no one is safe even in their own homes?


    I beg you as I do every time I see you to not go, not leave.
    You simply hold me close, tell me it’s your civic duty to this country, your country, <i>our</i> country.
    You tell me all will be fine soon, and not to worry.


    I hug you one last time, kiss you once more and you kiss me back.
    It’s fiery and passionate.
    Neither of us wants to let go of the other.
    But then you leave and I am all alone once more.



    You are supposed to be coming home today.
    It’s the last time you will ever set foot inside that retched country again.
    However, this time it is different.
    Different circumstances.


    I saw it on the news before I got the letter hand delivered from one of your friends in your movement.
    A raid in your area of work.
    Twelve were wounded severely.
    Seven were found dead.
    You were one of them.


    I cried my hardest today, seeing your body being buried into the ground within a deep mahogany coffin.
    Your friend, I believe his name was Greg, tried to comfort me, but to know avail.


    I had told you, begged you not to go back to that place.
    But you did.
    And now all I have left of you is a memory and this piece of cloth.

    I’ll never let you go, I whisper as you are lowered into the ground to be covered.
    Never, for you will always be,
    My one and only true love.