Bereft of solitude and quiet
The soldier buried himself
Deeply into the soft sand
He remembered his aging parents
Complaining about loud music
Would they still complain
If they had his ears now?
The deafening drums of battle
A concert for the soon to die
No music would they hear
As they left the battlefield
The soldier heard a cry
And realized it was his own
An eerie silence filled his ears
He prayed to hear a voice
Yet neither sight nor noise heard
Would he ever see or listen
For as life extinguished from his lungs
Gabriel’s trumpet began to play
