The Musket, a Dream

I wake into a dream

as always, at the start, it all seems serene

But as I dive deeper and deeper into a nightly pit

I find myself on a battlefield

with a Musket, shot, and shell.

 

I am in a burrow, with three other men.

One sits, depressed, with his rifle over a shoulder.

Two men converse with a pan of stew for each.

I find myself on one knee,

loading a Musket with shot and shell.

 

An officer visits us.

In our hole that a cannon blasted apart.

He grips his sword and gives a stern nod.

He gazes at the front lines,

of which seems worlds apart.

 

“The battle is at a stalemate.” He says.

Us four regard him with care.

For we all know,

That soon we will be called to battle.

 

I stare at my hands, slightly trembling.

Yet I remind myself that I am no longer a pup.

I have seen my share of war this decade.

And this Musket has claimed many a life.

Whether by a spark of flint

or upon my bayonet.

I have felled the enemy

My thoughts declare that I am a Man.

 

I have no spouse nor offspring

to leave behind should I fall.

I fight for good pay.

That I might one day change this state of my life.

 

I hear cannon-fire, both friendly and not.

The officer stands vigilant.

Still gazing at the distance.

 

“Get ready” He speaks

 

and thus the dream ends.

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