THEY WERE DYING TO GO HOME”

They stood on the edge of reality

Dwelled upon the edge of doom

Their thoughts were often clouded

Underneath the Vietnam moon  

They talked of times gone past

And of their sweetest dreams

They buried the past as well as themselves

As they forged the jungle streams

They fought fatigue and desolation

Thirst and sleepless nights

Their home a hole, their meal from a box

Lived in hell for others rights

A letter written and tucked away

In a pocket near their heart

They hoped it would never be sent

Upon their death the two would part

They deemed each day to be their last

Death present where ever they roamed

While deep inside they understood

They were just Dying to go home

They stood on the edge of reality

Dwelled upon the brink of doom

Their thoughts were often “silenced”

Underneath the Vietnam Moon.

Disturbing, We were there in reality and at the time it seemed unreal to us. It was as though we were living and  watching the nightmare unfold through someone else’s eyes and soul. Now it is behind us, years behind us, and the reality is just setting in. All to real, all to disturbing to have the subconscious reveal what has been buried, Resurrecting the dead.

© Richard D. Preston