War and a Saviour
He thinks back to a time
when he was so young.
M-16 on his shoulder
smoke in his lung.
Dense jungles made thin,
by the orange that was sprayed.
His mind always drifts home,
to places he played.
He thought he was melting
in heat so intense!
His skin blistered and scorched,
this war made no sense!
C-rations his food
his appetite gone.
Becoming so thin,
he had to stay strong.
Numb now to fear,
the battle raged on.
Back home they were screaming,
get out of the Nam!
Hendrix, Dylan,
The Stones, and the Doors.
His music of choice,
during three tours.
Snakes in the paddy's
snakes in the tree's!
Misquito's so thick,
filled with disease!
Rats in the bunkers,
searching for scraps.
45 automatics,
the better rat traps!
Shrapnel flying,
from rocket attacks!
Running for cover,
no time to relax!
Sleeping in shifts,
in holes dug chest high.
Claymore's out front,
M-60 close by!
Sneaky little enemy,
he called them VC.
Living in tunnels,
so hard to see.
Dressed in black,
like everyone there.
They were all over,
you didn't know where!
Home from it all,
he no longer fit in.
So he stayed in a stuper,
as war continued within.
Three decades of anguish,
then came that day.
He was finally rescued,
and shown a new way.
His Saviour from heaven,
said 'give me your pain,
give me your sin,
let none remain'.
'I love you, you see,
you've suffered too long.
Get under my wing,
It's with me, you belong'.
His chains were now broken,
he was finally set free.
Free from his sin,
and PTSD!
Joy fills his heart,
where once was just pain.
His love for The Lord,
he can not contain!
Dale Totten
