To rule,
To lead,
To be great.
But chose;
To serve,
To save,
To die.
Birth like every other,
Fate like every other.
Life unlike every other,
Death unlike every other.
Living for the life of others,
Life lies in the hand of others.
Such is the life of a gallant soldier.

Victory comes only from God,
That is supposed to be their motto.
But not when there’s an unseen god,
That stirs the rotor and drives the motor.
Superiors are their unknown enemies,
Brutalised by the known enemies
And left for dead.
Fights on home and foreign soils,
Overused and underpaid.
Sent to hostile environments,
Where every battle is likely to be the last.
Sold out by their superiors,
By betraying them in ulterior,
Left to chase pavements.
Sleeping with thoughts of death,
Waking to steady thrums of stealth,
Clanking of guns and bangs of grenade.
Walking through thorny bushes,
Falling into mines, traps and ambushes.
Injuries and death on the runway,
But they’re never a runaway.
Their punishment is grave, ’cause they’re expected to be brave.
Voicing their displeasure,
Ganging up against an oppressor
Enough to warrant a death sentence.
They’re expected to be like nomads
Who in every situation are not cowards.
Forgotten after death in the battlefield,
Neglected after serving their fatherland,
Loved ones compelled to forget them.
Death is very certain,
Survival very uncertain.
Each battle with death in mind,
Each moment with Lethe in mind.
They fight tooth and nail,
They fight come hell or high water.
They fight when they;
Talk and walk,
Sleep and worship,
Pray and chase prey,
Wine and dine.
In spite of all;
NO is never an answer,
I QUIT is never their song,
They persevere for long,
They don’t want to be a loser.
They were not born to die,
But it’s what they chose to do.
by Odetokun Elijah

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