Once the battle was won and the insurgency winded down,
Back to the home front he went, thinking it was all over now.
Although physically absent from war, his mind never left,
And even after four years, he still can’t find himself.
The occasional escape, when he catches a chance to drift.
Until their eyes pull him back, pull him right back in the midst.
Back into the hell he thought he was fortunate to escape.
Back to his dead comrades, he would gladly take their place,
Instead of being reminded daily that he’s lucky to be alive.
Because he had to die, completely, in order to survive