Words From The Wounded.

There cries penetrate the thickness of the smoke filled air. Lives caught in the sharp twist of fate, entangled in the briars of war. The land upon which they lay exemplifies their existence and their fate. As the earth they are chewed up with the devastation of power unable to be bridled or controlled. Helpless and defenseless, they have given and sacrificed their mortality, lives and limbs in obedience to the war machine.

I hear the cries, as I watch them bleed. One cries out for his mother, another cries out cursing his God...others lay their in silence making no sound at all. Starring at their missing appendages. Shock has overcome them. Veins and bones exposed, Flesh ripped and torn. held together by bandages and tape. This is the comfort and the price provided by a country at war, in a war that should have never been.

There is no pomp and circumstance on the field of honor, there are no heroes. Just boys tossed into the arena. As Gladiators they fight and as warriors they bleed. Sacrificing as necessary for the ultimate victory. Visions of medals do not dance upon the minds of these who have suffered so. Visions of home and childhood lost, a Mothers touch, a Fathers smile of approval, the laughter of a sister, the playful punch of a younger brother, The kiss of his sweetheart. These are the things dreamt about on the battlefield of pain. This is the heart of the warrior and the weapon he will use to survive.

The cries, the anguish, the despair, The silence, The look in the eyes of the casualties of this war. The stage set in the crumpled tattered surroundings of a defoliated paradise carpeted with the Red Blood of youth. Crimson sunsets await
as they cry out to each other in the brotherhood and sisterhood of pain...

These are the Words from the wounded....

Boondocker  2/11/02