By Morgan Lin

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“Pieces of Me” unfolds as a series of letters from a soldier to different family members, offering glimpses into the emotional toll of war. It moves through themes of suffering, guilt, love, and redemption.

I. Woe

Woe is the 29th of June
Cannons go off
One by one 
Gunpowder kills 
A shot of a gun
By a stranger 
Amidst the battalion

A man
42
Wife and kids, love and loss
Bearing the brunt 
Under a sea of bodies

Arms, legs wrapped in red
Blood streaming down the
Immaculate ground
Mangled men, brothers who
Built this country 
Fight with their heads
Not their hearts

Live or die?
Fight or flee?
Do or don’t?
Sacrifice for your country

Black and blue bruises
Speckle his ashy forehead
Incriminating sweat
Droplets go unnoticed 
Eyes strain for freedom

For light
For a remnant of his daughters face
The smell of her wet hair
Protected by solace 

Bloody open gaping wound
Inner turmoil boiling
Acid.  lingers.  
Pain pouring 
A faucet full of
Water comes falling, falling
Down

Comrades comrades

Clock strikes midnight
In the bloodiest turnpike
Muddiest trench
Woe is the 30th of June
When will the woe be subdued?

II. Sinner

Daughter, daughter
How have I betrayed you?
When I left you
Teary-eyed, full of love
Waiting, waiting 
Hands folded in a prayer
Violet candles frame the 
divine altar

Petitions upon petitions
Your hands on my crippling heart
Knees bent
Praying, praying
Coursing blood through my
Entangled Veins

Forgive me my daughter
For I have lost the battle
My ignorance and pride
Left me
Shivering and cold
Hearted
Hands folded in a prayer

A saint to my country, but to you
I am forever a sinner

Was I worth the air In your lungs Your pain, your grief?

III. Ashes

Lover lover
Your hands gnarled as leather
Nails buried in your palm
I can feel your fists 
Clenching, clenching

Your heart
Pounds, pounds
To keep me alive 
Your picture a remnant in my memory
Appears
As the devil steals my
consciousness 

In daylight
Your anger subsides 
For they are too young to know the
Difference between the
Living, 
Dead
Midnights become your time to weep,
To cry
To shy away from the brave face
You put on to brace 
yourself and others

Long lost I am
A nomad I was
You gave me a home and
Wandered with me 

In summers Joy
When the violet 
Indigo straits
Paint the starry sky

Hold me in your palms
Blow a kiss and —
Sprinkle me away
Ashes to ashes
To dust shall I finally return

IV. Redeemer

Father father 
Contrition will never redeem you
Tears rush to my eyes
rancor pervades 
my mind

Years and years
Reconciling memories of you
Your strength
Valor
Until you became nothing more than a
Traitor
Coward

Challenged by a 
Grievous heavy tattered 
Heart

Succumbed to 
Humanity 
cheating, lying, scandal
You, my Pilgrim Progress novel of
Morals
Windows beaten  
Solid graupel
Devil ringing at my doorbell
Temptations, temptations

To leave without a note
A single message 

Blemished face of tears
Livid eyes, rage usurps
Torment presides at my
Funeral
Body buried in a casket

Goodbye without
Goodbye
Wrenched soul 
Loss of you
Im dying
You are living but you never cared

Message me in a bottle
As my body disperses in water
message me with sorrow
I promise to forgive you.

V. Silence

Mother, mother
To be born of you was my
Greatest gift
Your greatest loss 

A decade ago
My hand in your hand on our
Favorite park 
bench 
Silence in the wind
In your smile, in the way your
Fingers tousled my hair
You called me your son
Only me, no one else

Eyes gleaming,
I colored my feelings
Rainbows and lilies 
Buried in happiness, I
kept my secret to 
Only me, no one else

Years ago, a 
Cardboard Letter minted
wrapped in 
Silver emblem
Replaced the
Empty doorstep that Father left 
On
Face enlivened 
You were expecting something
But it was nothing
Just the papers that stripped 
me 
away
From you
Rosy color draining 
Hands, sweaty palms shaking
You
Wiped away the fear
Kissed me with
Fervor
pronounced me your son 
Only me, no one else

Yesterday I received your
Horror, you crept into
My dreams
Called me your warrior 
and screamed
Screamed until
Your lungs had given out
How much pain did you bear 
From me
Was I worth the air
In your lungs
Your pain, your grief?

Your silence
Broken
Pain mistaken,
Torment underestimated 
love unbroken
for someone
Like me

In your dreams
I will visit
In the silence, void
I will whisper
Quiet words for the 
screams and pain you 
Sacrificed for me
And only then will you 
Understand the love I
have For 
Only you, no one else

Process

In crafting the poignant poem “Pieces of Me,” I drew inspiration from the spirit of my great-grandparents, who weathered the storms of the Communist era. Their resilience in the face of adversity left an indelible mark on my understanding of hardship. My grandmother, who suffered a cranial attack, and my grandfather, who endured the theft of all his possessions, epitomized the darkness that shrouded those challenging times. This work serves as a testament to the strength of the human spirit in times of profound despair, a narrative born from the echoes of their struggles and my own reflections on the impact of loss. Creating “Pieces of Me” was an emotional journey, a release of the grief that lingered within me, an exploration of personal sorrow and the broader historical narrative. Through this creation, I discovered a newfound resilience within myself, a testament to the enduring legacy of those who came before me and the transformative power of navigating grief through artistic expression.