Colin F. Jones
Well it’s all before us, plentiful to see,
Shared by the eyes of the enemy and me,
Caught in a glance a chain of golden fire,
And in my heart a dread I count most dire,
As that which like a blazing sword thrust out,
In vicious hope that I’ll be turned about,
Doth pierce the breast of comrades at my side,
That I do live to witness those who died.
Well it’s all behind me, obvious to see,
Yet I do carry past events with me,
Shots through my eyes that shattered in my brain,
There evermore in fragments to remain.
Each one a splinter from a shattered shell,
Like termites in sweet heaven causing Hell.
©Copyright July 29, 2004 by Colin F. Jones