His Perfect Day
The soldier stood,
In the glistening cathedral,
Naught but a single thought to him.
“My sins must be purged, my crown destroyed.”
Leaving the holy fortress,
Purified of his sins,
The soldier sells his Crown to his people.
Yet when the ravages of war struck again,
The soldier was gifted with that blood wrought crown,
“Lead us to victory!” His people cried.
“Father, Have you no Pride, no Honor?” His son exclaimed.
“You treat these as though they ask for the impossible,
Yet the impossible have they achieved,
Only for you to waver in their hour of need.”
“To war then we go!” The soldier exclaimed.
His son now a man, his perfect day now realized.