Knowing the war indeed goes on and on fighting battles within the anatomy I dream of when the torment will be gone never brought to mind, their souls set free
Once again, I find myself crying unable to convey how much I care Hearts poured out, eternally dying captured by the pens bleeding despair
If I could take the heartaches, I would make myself the recipient of the pain I'd bear all the miseries, if I could and I would do it, again, and again...
Indeed the cost of freedom is greater than simply risking life and dying the price paid remains with them forever haunting them, in their life always prying
Symptoms return when they least expect them when they think they've conquered the thing as a wound reopened to infection again to the pain...an endless ring
The nightmares and persistent depression weigh heavily on their crucified souls Sacrificed for a duteous expression they're still imprisoned in a fighting hole
I try my best to imagine, instinctively being there....at both ends of the gun smelling and tasting it all distinctly in a Catch-22 under a relentless sun
I thank the Lord for those who stood on the front lines of the trial of their lives believing they were fighting for 'the good' in the 'great battle' under treacherous skies
I reach my hand to our veterans, weeping feeling and absorbing their pain touched by their torment, creeping into my heart, again and again
And I will never stop crying for those who cannot dream without reliving the fighting and dying waking each night to a primal scream
Lord, bless them for all they've been through let them know that someone does care still slowly gleaning their torment true in this life, where nothing seems fair.
ŠNancy L. Meek September 1, 2001; Revised July 10, 2004