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Coming Home

Coming Home Beneath foreign skies I march alone, Steel on my back, far from hearth and stone. The road is carved by fire and command, Not by my will, but by oath and land. I have crossed through smoke and shattered plains, Heard dying prayers in the clash of chains. Each dawn reminds me what I defend, Each night whispers where I will end. Your name I carry, not spoken aloud, Like a banner folded, worn but proud. The world may harden my voice and hand, But my heart still knows where it must stand. If I fall, let history say I knew Why I fought—and who I was returning to. They call this vow a soldier’s lie, Hope forged thin where the brave may die. But I swore by blade, by blood, by flame: I will return. Remember my name. Are you still watching the northern road, Counting the years by the weight I owed? Does the fire still burn in the window’s glow, Or has the world taught you to let me go? I ride through thunder, through loss and pain, Through broken ranks and endless rain. I will return, whatever it costs to win— By one last march, I will come home again. The nights are long when banners fall, When victory sounds like a funeral call. I have seen brave men lose what they were, Trading tomorrow for orders unsure. Yet in the silence before the fight, When even steel holds its breath at night, I see your face, calm and clear, Not asking me to stay—only to endure. The world believes that war remakes us whole, But it only shows the shape of the soul. If I survive what this path demands, It’s because my future waits beyond these lands. They say time erases what distance steals, That promises rust like unused steel. But my oath stands fast, unbent, unseen— I am coming back, as I have been. Are you still watching the northern road, Counting the years by the weight I owed? Does the fire still burn in the window’s glow, Or has the world taught you to let me go? I ride through thunder, through loss and pain, Through broken ranks and endless rain. I will return, whatever it costs to win— By one last march, I will come home again. I am no stranger to fear or doubt, I’ve buried friends and walked on without. If fate should mark me with scars and age, Let them speak truth, not a broken page. I do not ask you to wait in chains— Only remember why my vow remains. You are the reason the sword feels light, The quiet thought before every fight. You are the ground beneath my stand, The home I carry across this land. I will return, through ash and sea, Through shattered crowns and victory. If I still breathe, if I still live— I will come back for the life we give. If this road ends where my footprints fade, Let it be known I was not afraid. I chose my path with open eyes, No borrowed faith, no hollow lies. Should songs be sung of fallen men, Let mine say why—and not just when. I walked to war so love could stand, And called it honor, not command. You are the light beyond the war, The truth I crossed these battlefields for. Not a dream, not a distant flame— But the steady voice that knows my name. If you still wait beyond the thin, Then every scar was worth what’s been. I will return, not as I was, But as the man who kept his cause. Hold fast, my love, if you still can— I’m coming home. As a sworn man The road grows quiet beneath my feet, No clash of steel, no marching beat. Only the wind, and the sound of home, Closer now than I’ve ever known. If I fall, then I fall as a man who knew What he stood for, what he walked through. But if I live to see dawn’s hand, I will lay down my sword on familiar land. No banners rise, no victory cry, Just the open door and your waiting eyes. Let the world keep its wars and scars— I’ve come this far.