In the Heat of Battle
Amisdt the lull of flying rockets and shells I stare at this photo and feel terribly sad
My Grandfather, cut down in youth; my Dad, bound in a chair, with legs, iron clad
Mom with foresight, had it sealed in plastic, to keep it safe away from the damp
She may have dreamt on some dark night that I'd spend time in this cold swamp
Although sheets of rain fall endlessly fast, intermittent sunlight cast out warm rays
So often this brings some comfort and the hope, that all this will end soon, some day
Knee deep in rice fields we tread, with deadly snakes; critters running for dear life
Frightened by sounds of hell's orchestra accompanied by fires and strange light
So many buddies lay in final sleep; I am numb; I no longer feel lucky to be alive
Unaware of where or who the enemy is; bearing no special distinction from allies
And I believe, this is a horrible joke being played designed to steal souls of men
What else is hidden as we grimly watch our friends' bodies packed in bags to send
In the heat of battle we stand brave; but cry for Mothers as we lie in this trench
Any atempts to conceive how is this serving my country, in fury my fists would clench
In this shadow of death I make peace with my maker as death may take me away
How arrogant and delusional to believe that destiny can be circumvented this way..
~*~
For Miranda Lambert's "World War of Vietnam" Contest
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