I've slept and woke through trials and hardships,
given my pain, do I deserve to sleep?
The rot of my mind smells of crushed parsnips,
Pungent but pleasant, to me it's a feast.

Rally in despair, a Spartan prepared,
given nothing but a mind full of hope.
I've taken my fear, gone! Poof! In thin air,
And walked through the valley's filled with red dope.

Through the eye's of a Soldier, built for war,
Beauty present's itself in many ways.
Wound's dealt by bullets covered in pink scars,
It's the wounds you don't see that tend to stay.

We fight and we hate, for land that's not ours,
We give and we take pieces of our Hearts.