The Last Letter

This be my last letter to you dear,
For tomorrow I may not see the light, I fear

I hear that the enemy’s army marches closer
And is expected to arrive at dusk or sooner

I am sorry my dear, I regret my choice
I can still hear in my head your voice,

‘Don’t do this, Wilson, war is not the solution
Believe in humanity, not its division

Don’t go my dear, the rules of nature you must abide
Only then within you, peace shall reside’

I wish now I have paid heed to your words
Maybe I wouldn’t have to witness this curse

For everyday I see the death of men,
Men who loved their wife and children

Men who were brave and gallant
Yet prayed everyday for this battle to end

My men today they sit by the fire,
Merry in their faces, drinking to their fullest desire

Tomorrow I leave for the impending crusade
I will perform my duties and fight like a warrior true

Tell my children I loved them most,
Bless them with love and the spirit of the Holy Ghost

I am sorry my dear, forgive me if you can
I love you and miss you, to that I say amen

Sincerely yours,
Wilson O'Neal