Soldier

Burning eyes meet the morning sun.
Weary feet greet the ground.
Hands reach for a loaded gun
as the platoon leader comes around.
Fleeting dreams of coming home
Slowly lost in the black smoke
and the group begins to roam
with some still crackin' jokes.
Towards the red sandy dunes they head
with boots caked with clay.
Yearning for an etxtra hour in bed
while morning sun turns to day.