Written on a whim for A Soldier's Last Memory Collection by FadingGenes

Hands caked in dirt

face lined with stress

he hunkered down

in the bombshell crater

overhead the shelling roars

he resets his helmet on his head

and folds the paper in his hands

kept safe to read later

On his stomach with his rifle

he peers across the wasteland

as night unfurls its cloak

the battle's undertaker

silence fell like a final curtain

then a bugle split the air

he strains his eyes

and prays once to his maker

the enemy advanced across

the undulating landscape

an assault of gun and hand grenade

he begins doubting his creator

he ducks but feels the sudden pain

hand grasping for his pocket

and in a desperate, dying, final effort

clutches his beloved's unread letter