I wrote a poem

He's alone, its an open road ahead

the rain, its already soaked him to his skin

his heart is racing, he begins to run

he knows not what follows him but keeps on running

he doesn't know where only that he'll get there soon

behind his eyes he's fighting

he clutches his rifle, the steal is bitter cold to the touch

his view is short as the fog is thick

a gentle breeze across the land

this path lined with emerald grass and endless fields

the black road beneath his feet leads him far from home

in the clearing they await

He has returned

With themes of war, violence, relationships and such in this film I feel that mottos and poems would be an interesting motif to explore. The title of the film thus far is a war motto written in Latin 'Quis separabit' it means "Who will separate us" a statement that my film will play homage to with the relationships that I plan to explore. This short poem that I have written I plan to use as a voice over to establish the first scene which will be a dream like sequence involving the main character 'Shawn'. I would like a older male to voice the poem as we see Shawn on screen running down an open road. The poem could be revisited in the film possibly at the end, possibly a poem that Shawn's father could have read to him when he was younger or just an unexplained piece of writing that creates a sense of isolation, return and restitution. 

Update

The hills cascade beneath red sky 

A lonely march, truant, a figure, a free man

Rain has soaked him to the skin

He clutches his bitter cold rifle

Pacing, heavy heart & burdened 

He fights behind glazed eyes

Longing for halcyon

His view is short as the fog is thick

A gentle breeze across the land

This path is lined with emerald grass & endless fields 

The black road beneath his feet once led him far from home

In the clearing they await his return

Further Update

The hills cascade beneath red sky
He now stands on familiar soil distant from foreign land
Truant, a figure, a free man
He begins a lonely march
He remembers their faces lying still
Clutching his bitter cold rifle
Rain has soaked him to the skin
A sodden jacket upon his back
Pacing, heavy heart & burdened
A crumpled picture of those he loves

The wailing has fleeted
But still he fights behind glazed eyes
Longing for halcyon
A veneer of fog and gentle breeze across the land
A path lined with emerald grass & endless fields
The black road beneath his feet once led him far from home
In the clearing they await his return