Pakistan.

A moonless night in May.

Inside the compound,
everything appears to be
almost pitch black.

Night vision goggles lift
the veil of darkness.

With the goggles, everything inside...
         all the details of the home,
         become startlingly visible,
         revealing all in this surreal setting
         - suffused as it is with
           a dreamlike green hue.

And then there are the eyes
of those looking on...
     Osama Bin Laden's wives, children, couriers
     peeking out from doorways,
     huddled in rooms and hallways,
     their voices whispering in Arabic;
     those large curious eyes incredulous
     as they study these invaders
     with their goggles, their strange gear,
     their weapons drawn as they methodically
     carry out their mission.

This night so far four people have been silenced by gunfire.

The raiders are certain Bin Laden
is up ahead on the third floor.

They climb slowly up the
dangerously slick steps wet with
blood, moving with deliberation
toward their target's bedroom.

They hear suppressed shots fired
by their point man
and see a tall figure flee
back into a room.
He's been shot.
The men in pursuit enter the room and
more gunfire ensues.

A small cluster of people are also
there in the room - two women, three children -
eyewitnesses to history...

They are confused, dazed, shocked.

They see this wild man,
this phantom of our most torturous dreams,
writhing on the floor,
desperate, struggling,
about to take his final breath.