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Library: Mephistopheles
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Author: merja
Date:Apr 19 2006
A young man once lived. He was one I loved. He was the brother I could trust,
who told me everything that lay in his heart. He was a good man, for he had a
good heart. And he died. I like to imagine he died instantly. But in war, what
kind of death is ever that simple?
He joined because he was high and his friends took him along for the joke. He
ended up joining. He took medical because it was what they offered first. He
went through the humiliation that frequently occurs at military training. He
took it in stride, even though it registered in his brain each time someone
called him unsavory. I didn't understand it because in my opinion, this was a
young man with a great amount of intelligence, courage and energy. He was very
attentive, he listened, he was smart and yet somehow he failed.
He failed and took 3 other people who he was responsible for with him. He
showed them that they were right, he was irresponsible.
I would like to remember this young man because of his intellect and
courage. He was the nicest young man a person could meet. He had tattoos in
all the wrong places and dressed like a dark angel as he so wished to maintain
the imagery of. He had the best cellphone ringtones, and a toyota. He was only
20 years old, 8 years younger than me. I cared for him actualy because I
wanted to see him succeed. It was not because I thought him to be a loser who
deserved a chance either. It was because I like to see a man who fights back
in his own way.
In loving memory to a young man who I expected great things from. May his
death not have been in vain, and may the war end so that we do not kill and
maim so many of our precious home commodity: generations of warriors.
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