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I've almost forgotten what it is to be alive while the memories of broken sleep linger while nothing else remains I wear the same boots that walked in enemy terrority no emotions remain left to make me feel what it means to be alive The broken bodies of children haunt my mind every now and then when I think of my return to a land that holds death that holds the unknown Even my finger upon the trigger can't even stir a response like the crackle of a radio breaking the silence of night screaming "MEDEVAC, MEDEVAC, MEDEVAC" While I've listened to the lectures even read the studies but they can't see the burning wreckage the bloodstained floors Some have said its survivor's guilt some have even said its my hero complex but where are the answers for even the simpliest questions Why? Why me? Why must I be haunted when will I be free to escape the memories stirred by the media to grab ratings Every death, another shot another reminder for me of the friends I've lost of the missions I've pulled as the golden hour slips away but as I stand here just a shell, vacant and empty of who I used to be while the memories linger its those feelings that elude me
0
Sep 25, 2011
Sep 25, 2011 at 11:51 PM UTC
Vacant & Empty
I've almost forgotten what it is to be alive while the memories of broken sleep linger while nothing else remains I wear the same boots that walked in enemy terrority no emotions remain left to make me feel what it means to be alive The broken bodies of children haunt my mind every now and then when I think of my return to a land that holds death that holds the unknown Even my finger upon the trigger can't even stir a response like the crackle of a radio breaking the silence of night screaming "MEDEVAC, MEDEVAC, MEDEVAC" While I've listened to the lectures even read the studies but they can't see the burning wreckage the bloodstained floors Some have said its survivor's guilt some have even said its my hero complex but where are the answers for even the simpliest questions Why? Why me? Why must I be haunted when will I be free to escape the memories stirred by the media to grab ratings Every death, another shot another reminder for me of the friends I've lost of the missions I've pulled as the golden hour slips away but as I stand here just a shell, vacant and empty of who I used to be while the memories linger its those feelings that elude me
marcus-logan
Written by
American
Sep 25, 2011
Sep 25, 2011 at 11:51 PM UTC
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