PTSD

Here I lie in wait, for the enemy at the gate, it's not like they haven't been here before, carrying their AK74, Isis or cartel they're all bad, what they've done haunts me till I'm sad, every shadow's move catches my eye, this may be the night my enemies die, even at night my pistol sights glow, it becomes so quiet I hear my blood flow, nobody ever does come to my door, but the voice in my head says I must wait even more.