A dreary night of inferno--1941
noises of bullets and hand grenades came flying as one.
The moon lit nearing midnight,
of course it's the time of freight.
I found myself anxiously descending the wooden staircase,
I feel my brows dampen as my heart race.
Taking one last step from this wooden step,
to the numbing cold of the cement.
I knew someone there sensed,
my weary-vulnerable presence.
Then came a spine-chilling radio-crack,
"Abort, abort!" it said with a manic crack.
There and there I heard of nothing,
but hurried footsteps as it sounds escaping.
A long second passed silence ruled then followed the sky,
dropping frenzied screech in my ear like a wandering fly.
All in the darkness came white and last of me remember,
neighboring plank woods, and rooftops are in ashes from an ember.
I knew then and there in my slumber,
that war is over.
Times passed I knew after all my eyes were blinded,
by a droplet of explosion which costed me a life-time incapacitated.
I thought with all-hell surpassed I have finally met freedom,
yet still I died sitting in this dark park of boredom.
There on my last anxious sighs seated blindly on a warm wooden bench,
beside a cold-cemented statue of a false hero drenched.
Nearing midnight I knew I heard in my mind,
Uttering a hungry cry saying that "war is blind!"
12-29-14