Another night of old terrors!!
Misty dreaming – with the Raven of Night
upon my shoulder speaking of all life
that has died and of all the death that
has been lived.
Where have you gone my Scouts, my
friends, my brothers? Why am I alone in
my return from where none can ever return?
I no longer weep for myself, I weep for
all that have seen the horror.
I see more clearly now, for in silence
there is a vast echo of screaming…
and dying men… dying friends!
How can I be here and almost always
©Copyright June 23, 2005 by Charles Schwiderski