The work that must be done
It appears the loneliness
will become almost unbearable.
Sorted out along the way
by unidentifiable voices,
stripped of being the soldier
you always prided yourself on being;
nothing at all dramatic –
just the bleak, quiet, tedious,
of the immeasurable, unmarked terrain,
once you get down to it –
the work that must be done.
No one to share your trials, triumphs,
failures or whether the mission bears fruit,
not the least recognition given
except from God, perhaps, if He so deigns.
O child of God, your every thought and utterancebinds you to the delusion under which you suffer.