X, X, X Poem by Melpomene's Tears

He breathes slowly
inhale, exhale
inhale, exhale
his heart slows down
his fingertips welcomes the seeping cold
the world turns silent
no longer can he hear
men screaming
bombs erupting
guns blazing
instead he hears her sweet voice
pleading for his return
he hears the wind whistle across the tallgrass prairie
he feels the bark of an aging oak
his mud stained hands now
touch dying grass scattered across No Man's Land
caresses it like a lover
leaving his beloved before a journey
he turns his eyes to the skies
he prays with his final breath
a soldier's prayer.