Afghanistan A Portrait Of.
In my mind's eye
I see a canvass
An empty sky
Where Kites no longer fly.
Before a rising sun
A Helicopter comes
Black Angel of death
Framed by a crimson backdrop.
While on a dust choked plain
A improvised exploding device
Claims another soldier's life.
Villages and towns appear
Where women walk in fear
Avoiding direct eye contact.
A heat haze trails, a vista
Zig zagging through the canvass
To a remote mountain post.
Where a mirage of
The Grim Reaper laughing,
Looking down,
Dances with the Taliban.
Sep 4, 2017
Sep 4, 2017 at 5:24 AM UTC
Afghanistan A Portrait Of.
In my mind's eye
I see a canvass
An empty sky
Where Kites no longer fly.
Before a rising sun
A Helicopter comes
Black Angel of death
Framed by a crimson backdrop.
While on a dust choked plain
A improvised exploding device
Claims another soldier's life.
Villages and towns appear
Where women walk in fear
Avoiding direct eye contact.
A heat haze trails, a vista
Zig zagging through the canvass
To a remote mountain post.
Where a mirage of
The Grim Reaper laughing,
Looking down,
Dances with the Taliban.
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