DYING SOLDIER

DYING SOLDIER

Let my comrade gather me,
Something has happened to me,
Something painful, but can’t weep,
Hot sharp steel cut my soul.

Rain has finally beaten me,
Death has made mockery of me,
His has finally stolen my brave heart,
I shall now go beyond and rest.

Tell my little boy when he grow older,
Let him pick not the rifle when am gone,
No daughter to wail when death seal my eyes,
Who shall console the wife of my youth?

Let those gone before me tell my fathers,
They have treated their offspring badly;
Tell them their boy is coming home,
And his body may be eaten by termites.

Ask them why they were idle there,
While their soldier boy war all alone?
Never planned returning home to them now,
But I return to them and know no shame in their presence.