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Co-lateral Damage

Slivers of ice puncture my psyche
cold sweat memories of Asian nights
lit only by the fireflies of flares

I hunker in a bunker, wrapped in darkness,
clutching my savior/weapon
knowing only death is real

shadows move, blacker than my thoughts,
stronger than my illusions,
breathing becomes an act of bravery

imprisoned by damp flesh,
hotter than the surrounding jungle,
I cringe again and try to pray

war-sounds assail my senses
choppers, bullets, screams
the enemy within me

morning finds me safe in bed,
but slow to face the day
realizing sanity is fleeting

brain cells die each night
killed by ghosts of soldiers
and soon the darkness will win

C. Lon R. Bruso