The Hold

Caught in the coils of PTSD,

And locked forever deep inside;

As if by a kind of tortured pride.

I don’t think you can understand

What sears my being like a brand

Etched layers deep into my soul,

Burnt there by War’s fiery coals.

Lurid nightmares that end in tears,

Conjured up from deep-seated fears,

Live in memories decades old...

Haunting stories I have never told.

Dismaying, shifting changes of mood,

From laughter to a dark-hued brood,

Cause loved ones to shy away,

Uncertain how I’ll react today.

How many times have I stepped back

From that abyss, so deep and black,

To resume my life and carry on

While wishing that I had gone

Down toward that beckoning release,

The enticing promise of Final Peace?

But something holds me in this life,

Despite the pain and ceaseless strife.

It is the love that I can see

Deep in your eyes reaching out to me...

Infusing me with eternal hope

That, if I learn to really cope

With the demons that beleaguer me,

The day will come when we're both free

To bask in the warmth of our love’s sun

United forever together as one.

© 9/12/2005 Thurman P. Woodfork

Awarded 09/14/2005

Background sequence by M de Ridder