Through the war in Afghanistan

Through the frosty breath of the squadron leader,
His solidified thoughts stay lodged in view
The starry -eyed soldier, no longer himself,
Saw life through the lens of unshed tears.

The frozen heart of the squadron leader,
Held close by perforated strings of hope
Saw the faith dissipate through the atheists flaws
As love became too painful to near.

War raged havoc within the squadron leader,
Cementing his commanding persona
The delicate soul felt pain and no pride
For he quickly became distant from the people he loved.

In the warm return of the Squadron leader
Found anger in everyday life.
The cold man aged hard in the heat of war’s sun
Losing control within, and enforcing it on us.

Afghanistan.

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