He walks in shadows, quiet and still,
Carrying weight he's afraid to spill.
The echoes march on inside his chest,
Of old battles fought, robbing him of rest.

As the world moves on, he's held steadfast,
Trapped in the trenches of a violent past.
In a sudden sound, or a fleeting glance,
His memories rise, while he stands, entranced.

He learned to fight, without feelings show,
So he buried them deep, now he can't let go.
As all the wounds unspoken, slowly grow,
And haunt the...