He was

He gently pushes the door open, slowly he runs his eyes across the busy cafe. It is loud with music and chitchats of teens and young people. He heads to his favorite stool at the corner, facing those big window that views the narrow busy street. He puts his bag, climbs up the stool and starts looking outside the window, people walking, couples and cars. reflections showing the people behind his back. His eyes get lost in those intersecting images. His mind is not clear for his heart is troubled. He has a question that only one could answer. He knows that looking for the answer would risk him his dearest. He doesn't take risks any more. Like war veterans he chose to wear his last war outfit. Though it never covers his old scars, it yet honors his sacred duty. He is the most awarded for giving himself up for those who never new his name, and even those who did, yet forgot. A man could stay locked in the peek of his time, a moment where the world ended for him, where eternity touched that instance of time. A moment when the sound of his heartbeats sound no more. Turning points could be the end of a man's life sometime. He is what he was.