The Lone Soldier and The Battlefield

In the desolate battlefield
the split boughs of trees bow in obeisance to the ground
while men too lay buried in their flagging strength
The only face that is unbowed,
the lone soldier looks at the sky for solace.

All hatred now unwound, friends and foes sleep together in the dust.
The lone soldier leaves them to slumber in the cradle of death.

All distinction now shed away by the Soldier and His battlefield,
Within the field all are embraced equally in the maw of death,
as foes in life become comrades in sleep,
while the soldier walks silently by their graves, impersonal in his grief.

Rising above the wreck of battle,
the soldier shovels away the tainted dirt
and buries the sleeping soldiers of the battlefield.

After the battle has left misery in its wake, a greater battle – that of sacrifice - has engulfed the field
As in denial of death's very portent,
the soldier seeks to undo the desolation of the field,
his shovel becomes his only hope of sacrifice,
as while the soldiers he buries slumber tumultuously in abandonment of the soul,
the soldier labors with only an ardor for life.
As comrade and foe destroy each other, the soldier emerges the sole victor of the battlefield
and quietly proclaims his victory over death.