Trilogy of war©

Why do I continue to believe that there is any comfort in sleep?
I know the beast of rememberance lives there.
The closer I get to his dreaded domain,
He rears his head, in the anticipation of the feeding on my mortal soul.
He lays in wait grinning,
Salivating in the knowledge that he once again,
Will have the bountiful feast of my pain.
Upon entering this dreaded land,
My powers of choice are stripped away,
As the moon steals the day.
I am at his mercy....he has no mercy, and i am alone.
Afraid, naked, screaming in the night once more.

I was old enough to die,
But not to vote.
I was old enough to kill,
But not to drink.
I was old enough to face death.
See the destruction of nations,
The faces of orphaned children.
The broken and bleeding bodies,
To face the realities of the unreal.
I was old enough to hear the cries of mothers over sons lost,
But not to see the truth.
I was old enough to kill,
I was 18.

I wish I could feel something inside,
I know there was a time....but not now.
The joys of youth, fled screaming.
In the night comes terror,
The faces of death, the cries of pain.
The stench of rotting flesh.
Body bags, lined up like trophies,
A salute to futility.
There must be something more,
Must i continue to be dead?
Is there no peace?
They come creeping in the night, as it was before.
Killing me now, as they did then.
How much should one hurt?
For how long must we fight,
The dream beasts of the night?
The fear and faces, haunting days.
I wish I could feel something inside,
There was a time.......but not now.

by...me Mike Nichols