For My Country


  • War
    • iLuvPoetryJACOB
    • Poetry will always emerge out of the shadows of depression, shining like a star in the scarcity of light.

    For My Country

    Gun shots exploding in my ears

    So much smoke...

    It’s very hot, but I don’t seem to notice it,

    The desert sand pools at my feet.

    It’s hot and dry, just like the desert I stand in.

    I can feel the aching in my bones,

    Sharp pains in my legs and arms

    Especially the frantic horror drowning out all other thoughts

    The gun in my hand feels heavy and dangerous...

    But I see my comrades on the ground...

    Vivid crimson covering their bodies!

    I can’t help but cry,

    The tears stream down my face as I press the trigger

    And point at nothing in particular.

    My face is dirty and hot,

    And my abdomen feels hollow.

    I scream out in grief and pure terror as I shoot.

    I see many men fall to the ground,

    And I drop the gun

    I hate it—

    Knowing that I'd stopped someone’s life,

    That I'd brought tears to a family’s eyes.

    The ringing in my ears makes the gunshots sound distant.

    I suddenly feel a burning pain in my chest.

    Warm liquid drips all over me

    And I feel the dust in my eyes and mouth,

    The hot sand scraping my cheek.

    I know it’s the end.....

    It just feels like it, but the unbearable horror is gone.

    My vision starts getting blurry

    And it seems as if I'm looking through a tunnel.

    I can barely hear anything.

    Everything starts getting darker,

    And my last thoughts are bursts of regret;

    Images of her, and our little girl….

    They float through my mind.

    And as they float away,

    I know I will never see them again.

    Because I threw it away—

    My life, my kid, my love….

    All for my country.

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    Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    iLuvPoetryJACOB’s Poems (51)

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