His Home
The young man closed his eyes
His wife and son play harmlessly in the lucious fields
He can't focus
Mortar rounds cloud his vision
He focuses even harder
He can almost hear their tender voices
No bullet can distract him now
They speak to him, telling him it'll be alright
He can't open his eyes
Sergeant orders him to push on
But he's almost home
No time remains
He reaches out to his sons hands
They rejoice in their short moment
He's reached home
Shortly his eyes open into the dark battlefield
But he's fine
He was already home
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