A dusty letter

With a little dirt and a bullet bust,

I write this letter so you may know what you must;

This war ain’t no nightmare nor a fantasy,

But it ain’t the story I thought we’ll have you and me;

 Drenched in blood from this crumbly foxhole,

I think of you and of the heart you stole;

It went on all day the crazy war,

For orders we battle and on commands we spar;

its only been a few moments, there are no bullets, no bombs, no shells making clouds,

And yet the quietness gets on our nerves and the silence seems too loud;

I wonder how my little girl grows , without knowing her father too,

I want for home I long for you;

They have called the medics for I have been hit,

Its no great wound don’t worry  just scratched a bit;

When we meet again I ain’t letting you go,

Just know my darling how I miss you so;

When you get this send me a peace dove,

And what all I couldn’t say is the song of my silent love…..

 ~Ishwar Atre