The Last Soldier

Amid the wreckage and despair, 

I stand alone, the only one to bear,

The weight of battle's cruel toll,

In this desolate, rain-soaked knoll.

The raindrops fall like silent tears,

Mourning the fallen through the years,

Their whispers echo in the breeze,

As I stand here, alone, with bended knees.

A sea of faces, now but shades,

In memory's fog, their glory fades,

Their dreams and hopes forever gone,

In this field where death has drawn.

The skies above are heavy, gray,

Matching the sorrow of this day,

Each drop that falls, a mournful cry,

For the comrades lost, the heroes who lie.

Muddy boots on blood-soaked ground, 

In this desolation, no solace is found,

Only the cold, relentless rain,

Washing away the remnants of pain.

I reach out, but there's no hand to hold,

No warmth in the rain, no stories told,

Just the sound of a world that's moved on,

In this lonely battlefield, where I am the only one.

And as the rain keeps falling down,

I bow my head, my heart does drown, 

In memories of those I've lost,

In this battlefield, where dreams were the cost.

The smoke and haze begin to lift,

As the rain continues its steady drift,

Revealing a sight too much to bear, 

Of those who fought, who once were there.

And as the mist starts to recede,

The enormity of loss I heed,

The wasted dreams, potential bright,

Lost forever in war's blight.

I wander the field with steps unsteady,

The raindrops mixing with tears already shed,

Looking for any other soul who remains,

But find only ghosts upon this scarred plain.

The world spins on, the conflict done,

But for me the war is never won,

As long as I'm still left standing here,

To witness the cost, the lives so dear.

I wait in the rain, keeping watch alone,

So their sacrifice will not go unknown,

Until time also claims this last sentry,

And I can finally rest from this weary duty.

For now I stand, the last soldier remains

To honor their memory as the rain falls like chains 

Binding me here, my post never done, 

Until every fallen comrade is mourned by the one

Who survived to tell of their spirit and deeds, 

Though his heart like the battlefield hopelessly bleeds.

This sacred ground forever marked by our kin,

Their loss etched into earth, seared under my skin.