There’s a rare breed among warriors who, beneath layers of grit and steel, carry within them a reverence for words. These “warrior poets” find strength not only in their actions but in the vivid expression of the world they navigate—its beauty and brutality alike. As they wrestle with the echoes of conflict, the words they craft reveal truths that can be as fierce as the battles they’ve fought, and as tender as the moments they’ve lost. Today, we’re privileged to share a piece of poetry that examines this duality, penned by one of our own. Let these words be a window into the soul of a warrior who, even after laying down his weapon, wields his pen with equal force.  — GDM

The Conundrum of Combat

Here I am.

Why?

How did this happen?

I wanted it.

I don’t now.

Didn’t think too much then.

Now I think too much.

This is mortally real.

I will perform. 

I will do what I must.

We will prevail.

My honor and self-respect.

I think too much when I have time.

I think of moments that may be.

Darkly.

I have seen them for others.

Life is of moments, and I want a lot of them.

Life has definite limits here.

We seek the condition—for the other guy.

Here is where I thought I wanted to be.

Maybe not now.

But I drive on.

I must.

I want to leave.

I can’t.

They are here and depend on me.

We will leave together or not at all.

Peace must prevail.

Meanwhile, I will kill what I can.

The conundrum of combat.

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