The Storyteller

A gunshot rings across the sky

Another soldier falls.

The storm clouds gather in their eyes 

As their fateful duty calls. 

They open fire into the night

No longer as a test.

As reality takes its mindful hold

A bullet strikes his chest.

The weight of worlds comes crashing down 

And rests upon his head.

The soldier that was standing tall 

Lies wounded, left for dead. 

These were stories never told

The ones of war and pain. 

The stories of the hardships 

He'll never see again. 

Instead he spoke of laughter 

Of mischief in his days

And I hoped that as the years went on 

He'd never change his ways.

He told us tales of love 

The love he had for her

And it seemed like none could ever be 

As happy as they were.

So we sat upon his carpet 

Him nestled in his chair

As the tales of his adventures

Flew rapid through the air.

Though his hands were weak and withered

And his voice was soft and small 

Behind the face of a dear old friend

Stood a soldier proud and tall.

But we'll hear his tales no longer  

For he's left us now for good. 

But his stories taught me so much more 

Than a classroom ever could.

So farewell dear storyteller

Now I'll thank your humble headstone 

For to me you will forever be 

The bravest man I've ever known.