𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐞

He’s back from the war, but the battle’s not done,
The fields may be quiet, but the wars never run.
His hands still remember the grip of the gun,
But there's no place to run.

The streets are all crowded, but he’s standing alone,
The world keeps on turning, but but his time is off.
He fought for a country that now doesn’t see,
The man that he was, or the man he should be.

Where's the family, that once gave him hope?
Just the whispers of memories that keep him up always.
He’s lost in the silence of faces that pass,
A soldier with no one - just bug in the glass.

He gave all he had, but it wasn’t enough,
Now peace feels like prison, and life feels too rough.
No uniform now, no honor to keep,
Just the weight of a promise, that he can't help but keep.

So he walks with the shadows, a stranger, a ghost,
Going "home", where's waiting a rope and a soap.