From the killing fields of pain
Into a steady, melancholy rain
Physically exhausted, mentally drained
Conscience with dross of war stained
Structured existence of automaton gone
Into freelancing world; bland, carefree zone
Shadows of a passing train still linger
Each, vivid image pointing accusing finger
Hypnotized mind still in a time warp wrapped
Conditioned body in a martial time zone trapped
In throbbing mind,
War's cadence...
Continue reading...