4 the Dead

Death, Destruction, Pain, Despair

Is what I see, as missiles fill the air.

As we duck down in the blood soaked trenches, we march each day.

Painful memories of fallen friends, dead as they lay.

War torn Hero's that died each day.

Fighting for independence, giving their lives away.

Friends trapped in barbed wire and blown to ash,

Soon to be picked up and buried like trash.

Body parts mixed, identities lost.

How many souls will this war cost.

I keep asking myself why we must fight.

'Cause I must pray each day to survive the night.

Mangled frames, and empty shells

Each day we walk right through the gates of hell.

Looking at pictures of my wife and kids.

Leaving them will be the hardest thing I ever did.

Sanity slipping, losing it fast.

I saw my best friend's neck get slashed.

I have found a reason to keep fighting this war.

Taking revenge for fallen comrades is what I have in store.

The cries of those still living in the field.

Those that cry out to be healed.

Some times I wish I would just die,

'cause next to the dead is where I lie.

Quietly into the night we all must go.

Dying with strangers we hardly know.

I've seen men cry but not weep.

I've seen men die from fear in their sleep.

Till I die I shall do my best,

But in the end I shall fall like the rest.

Donald

Was it worth it all?

Here I lay, tears in my missing eyes,
I wonder to myself in need to call--
Was it worth it all?

A man said to me,
Fight and you shall be free.
But here and now I lay,
I ponder--was there a need to lie?
Or maybe it is not a lie,
But solely a trick statement.

I am free.
Free of hearing the painful cries of my fellow soldiers.
Free of seeing blood, death, suffrage, and crying on shoulders.
Free of feeling a broken heart of someone waiting to see me.
Free of smelling the horrid stench of rot, decay, rats, and fleas.

But with my new freedom comes--
a freedom that can make the bravest of men run.
Free, I am, of hearing my children learn to speak.
Free, I am , of ever seeing the highest mountain peak.
Free, I am, of feeling warm kisses and tears from a happy cry.
Free, I am, of smelling sweet perfumes and freshly baked pie.

So now I say to myself--
You fought, and in many ways you are free.
But was it worth it all?
This is what I shall forever be.
A cripple, with no way to feel, smell, hear, or see.
But yes---
I suppose you could say I'm free.

Kaitlyn

Dead and dying all around
Men walking on the frozen ground
Brothers and friends laying so near
Dead faces frozen with fear
Pictures in pockets
Golden lockets
Tears of loss
As you see a cross
Guns and bombs
Boys crying for their moms
The night ski full of fire
The tried worrier aims a little higher
Men screaming out in pain
Not knowing who remains
Hearts filled with sorrow
Not knowing what becomes of tomorrow
Death so near
Should not be seen for many a year
No longer in the safety of a mothers arms
Now closer to harm
Rain streams from the sky
As a boy wonders why
Shattered dreams
No longer have wings

Carrie