The Myths and The Modern [√]

[ the prodigal hero ]

(we salute you, captain)

all his life he has done great acts of service
the medals of bravery hung on his walls
like a constellation of good deeds
he wears around his neck as a prize
the modern day superman with knuckles
scraped and bloodied from surviving

the good son comes home from war
skin a bit darker, leaner muscles
body lacerated and wounded tissue
eyes carrying the echos of the dead
blood on his hands, fallen comrades
sounds of metal bullets piercing skin
of smoke and bombs and fear
the muted carnage of the battlefield
weighs heavy on the back of his mind
a black tainted mural in his soul

back in the world of colors
he finds himself out of place
unsteady on his feet and hands
a silhouette of a boy left in the field

(he dreams of ghosts and gunshots)