The silence is ominous, like the calm before the eventual storm.
I wait with baited breath. Peering anxiously at the stage of destruction.
Smoke filled valleys with death strewn about was the norm.
My rifle ready, my heart unsure...My mind confused with patriotic delusion.
I answered the call for country and honor. Proud to be a pawn for righteous tyranny.
A cog in the wheel of the meat grinder, not only complicit but critical.
Perpetrator of yesterday's disappearance. My life as a young man is but a memory.
Seasoned with many battles before me. I'm numb to the reality of it all.
Intense pain is all around me. The smell of decomposition and fear fills the air.
My ears ringing. My bones reverberating from the rain of fire and death.
I close my tear filled eyes. Imagining a place of peace, void of despair.
Slowly opening them again. Is this a nightmare?...Anticipating my last breath.
What is that in the distance? The enemy, closer to me than first realized.
A young life with such potential. The power to destroy within me willingly.
Instilled with unquestioned hate for my foe. I'm beside myself, opening my eye to the lie.
He looks vaguely familiar. He looks like my brother...He looks like me.
Battle fatigued and weary. I am not a coward, I would never flee.
Between a rock of spiritual suicide and failure to protect my brothers.
Knowing that my inaction would put my comrades' lives in jeopardy.
WHY GOD?! Is this Hell on Earth? My objections of conscience begin to shutter.
Everything goes into slow motion. Adrenalin and the will to exist facilitate survival.
Determined not to go home in a flag draped box. The only beauty is honor within its confines.
The intensity of the chaos before me. The desire to continue to live cannot be rivaled.
My rifle slams against my shoulder...Goodbye old friend, at least in another space in time.
Do I deserve to live? Was he not better than me? Are we all not from the same source of reality?
A distant whistling from above gets clearer. In an instant I am removed from the play.
Everything goes black and silent. An intense feeling of love and peace wash over me.
Am I home? Am I where I'm supposed to be? All but forgot that young boy that lost his way.
Continue to part 4
YOU ARE READING
THE LAST DISSENTION
PoetryA soul's reluctant journey between realities. Poetic visions of past lives. The five poems are actually one story about a lone, lost soul. These are my personal visions.
