Red-haired Angel


Cursed to decide between hero and love,

He chose the life worthy of above.

What he decided broke his and her heart;

He thought it was the dawn of a new start.

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Burdened with the thought priceless gold,

He went behind her back and enrolled.

Now, trapped in his misfortune, in his pain;

Left with dying memories, nothing to gain.

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In his breast pocket, closest to his heart,

Lay a faded reminder of years past.

Captured in the time of careless fun,

Illustrating the sacrifice of duty well done.

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Painted in the colours of white and black,

His treasured possession, one he won't give back.

Visions of colour imprinted his mind,

Permanently there, simply to remind.

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Hair, redder than the fire of the sun;

Paled in comparison, to only one

Her smiling beauty, lighting up a room,

Equal to the splendour of spring in bloom.

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Dancing with mindless exhilaration,

And from freedom long-lost, pure elation.

Flying, soaring without thought, without fear,

Without knowledge of what horror was near.

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Now, trapped in his misfortune, in his pain;

Left with dying memories, nothing to gain.

Her flame extinguished by the common flu,

His heart shattered, questioning what to do.

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The image's weight pressed against his heart,

Crushing, destroying dreams of a restart.

Her burning flame consumed, taken from him,

Never to brighten the world's endless dim.

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Serving as an unceasing reminder,

A token of when the world was kinder.

The blame, he thought, was on him, no one more,

He wanted to go back to the time before.

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He gave his future to a worthy cause,

But made a mistake, his life was on pause.

A good soldier he was; one of the best;

Never bodily harmed, thought of as blessed.

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He denied and said, "Not blessed, just in love,

A red-haired angel protects me from above."