As Thou Wilt

I would stand in the midst, a squadron on one side,

Another on another, my hands and feet all tied.

I would have peace, knowing I gave another shot,

And a second and a third, for all for which I've fought.

My last thoughts would be of precious souls I've known,

Of words said and felt.  Of sacred compassion shown.

My last prayer would be like those uttered in past.

I'd beg for those still hurting, that God would heal them fast.

All the wounds, scars, and blemishes that my spirit shows

I'd plead that God would heal me, as my final moment flows.

Hands that have done both good and evil- such tied hands, mine-

Itch to show a final bit of kindness, to give some parting sign.

What can I give to make one last mark on this earth?

How can I help someone, anyone, learn their eternal worth?

Where dare I place my bets, to hope some pure soul rise?

Only by example, some small, inner voice cries.

If you who read these words care to take them to your core,

I dare to think them, that you may find your life is more.

If life means anything, or might mean something, to you,

Then do as I do now, when my life is done and through.

I kneel, as death hurls itself at my mortal frame.

I speak, and give voice to a sacred Name.

Tis the name of the God who gave me life,

Though oft I've wished to end it, by flame, or fume, or knife.

I then speak three words that sum up all I feel

After what I've done to try to help each wound heal.

Bullets and intentions, now buried to the hilt.

To my God, while they bury, "As thou wilt."