The Tragedy of War
In the field, on your toes, eyes always open.
Blink, you're dead. Sneeze, your platoon is dead.
(Be the perfect soldier — no mistakes.)
Constant tension, always ready, always
fighting for your life at
twenty-three hundred feet per second.
(You'll never make it out alive.)
Going home, adrenaline still coursing
through a highly efficient machine.
Guilt, drowning in guilt of leaving
men closer than brothers
men closer than brothers
in the darkest depths
of hell.
(What gives you the right to walk out on them?)
Doesn't sleep. He thinks, he plans.
Doesn't sleep. He thinks, he plans.
Dozens of escape routes.
(No escape from your thoughts.)
Off a plane, embraces smiling wife.
Forcing laughter, scanning for threat around every corner.
(Stay focused, stay ready.)
Tiny child reaches from warm, soft blanket.
Complete shock humbles proud soldier, silencing
the mind for one beautiful moment.
Familiar bed no longer safe. No nightmares
without sleep. Tiny voice alerts enemy
of his position. Panic rises, training takes over.
(Eliminate threat, stay alive.)
Firm hand on tiny mouth, tiny lights fade
from big brown eyes.
Silence restored —
Safe.
(You're never safe.)
Woman stirs, smiles at her protector. Smile fades
to horror. Sobbing turns to screaming.
(You have no choice. Stay alive.)
(You have no choice. Stay alive.)
Terrified soldier pleads for silence. One well-placed strike
brings temporary relief.
(I'm still here — you can't escape me.)
Permanent silence only comes at
twenty-three hundred feet per second.
(I told you, you wouldn't make it out alive.)
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