Veterans Death

Sept. 9, 07
A barren country that used to be full of life
Products of war now scatter along the country side
The death is a heavy acrid aroma in the air
Ghosts of bodies that follow me to my nightmares

The shivers running up and down my spine
The pale scaled skin of goosebumps is mine
The cold dread in my guts matched my face
I wish, among my brothers, I could take my place

The shouts, screams, and gun shots fill my ears
Somehow, the noises in my memories I can hear
I am blind, deaf, and dead to my very soul
But my heart still beats past every morning's dawn

My punishment for living and taking another breath
Is for them to keep talking to me even though I'm deaf
I wait patiently for time to make dust from my bones
So much death I have seen, but I haven't seen my own

~Sirens, sirens!
Heed the warning
Children screaming
Parents Fearing
It's to late for any prayer
The bombs were dropped
Without a care~