Word Portrait of a Blind Soldier

He stands there in the light

His short cropped brown hair brushed by the wind

You can just see his tanned and freckled forehead

But it is mostly covered by a dirty white bandage

Covered in blood it covers his eyes for he is blind

Then the soft curve of his nose, his nostrils slightly flared

You almost don’t see his ears pressed into the hair at the side of his head

His mouth is full and red, opening in a tiny O. Revealing only shadow

His chin is small and a little pointy, smooth and hairless

His chin half covers his thin neck, the bobble of his adams apple

His shoulders are neither big nor small, His shirt open in a tiny V

His shirt is camouflage green with three pockets

One on each breast and one down on the right side

There are three buttons near the top middle

The highest one is undone

The sleeves are long and end just above his wrists

His hands are white and pale. The left one is clenched

The right grips a knife gray, dull, and dripping blood

His right hand is stained with the blood till it vanishes

Under his shirtsleeve. His hands descend below his waist

His pants are coloured like his shirt

The zipper is covered by a fold of fabric

The ends are rolled up to keep the mud off them. They are muddy

His boots are pitch black. Tied with laces

Covered in mud. The tread pattern is all boxes

The ground is churned mud that has dried out

There is nothing but this mud for miles

The sky is bright, glorious blue with white

Tufts of cotton candy clouds

The sun is shining merrily with all of its might

But he is trapped in darkness

I wrote this because I had a picture in my head but cannot draw. So instead I drew with my words where I could not with pictures.