Suited for battle, laden with gear.
Trained for war, no room for fear.
Sand in his helmet, sand in his feet.
Picking up comrades who are now just meat.
"Hold the wall!", ringing in his ears.
No memory left of chasing women with beers.
I do not follow along in blind loyalty. I will listen openly and if words and motions do not align to the purpose given us by my DivineDad, I will quietly adjust my feet in a different direction.