On Foreign Shores

I was in the army, away on some foreign shore.

Fighting in some great battle, in a hell that we call war.

 

I hoped you were back home, patiently awaiting my return,

Praying that I don’t join the others, that in death have found their turn.

 

I then got a letter, that you had sealed with a kiss,

Saying you wish you could be here, so you wouldn’t have to end it like this.

 

A strange feeling came over me, as I realized what this letter was about,

You were no longer going to give your love, instead you simply wanted out.

 

You said you had found someone else, who would never make you cry,

Because you’d never stay up late at night, and wonder when he’d die.

 

I felt that I could right then, die as you had professed.

And God must have read that letter too, for a stray bullet landed in my chest.

 

And as I fell to the ground, my heaven lost by what you had said,

I woke up from my nightmare, and I was laying in my bed.

 

I then got an even stranger feeling, as discovered irony’s devilish charms,

For not even in my dreams, could I hold you in my arms.