Image credit: http://www.warscapes.com
The last wisps of smoke travelled to the ceiling.
They carried no pain, no symbolism, no meaning.
I stood up, moved towards the balcony
Inhaled the stars that shone for me.
There was a chill in the air
A foreboding of coming times
I stood straighter, spine erect
Helping my old; confident self, resurrect.
There is dignity in fighting
And sorrow in loss
Pride in winning
And a little love in every war.