His helmet reflects pale lights of dawn

His hands grope for his gun

Leaving him there

He wishes to have fought until his legs became too sore to run

His lungs to hot to breathe

His gun too cocked to shoot

He watches as the new day encroaches

He watches as his time in the hourglass closes

His legs dig deeper as his arms wrap tighter

He whispers soft words of comfort in his ears

He lets out a struggled sigh of healing

Morning arrives without fears

Night swallows him whole

A girl back in Boston sheds her tears

A dog back in Boston fears alone