THE SPOILS OF WAR
The old Soldier takes another drink,
in his effort to forget Viet Nam,
and the horrors of that killing rink.
Allowing him again to be proud -
his brain numbed by this liquid crutch,
drunkenly, he laughs out loud:
"Captain of Fools - I thee crown!"
Yet impossible to accept or condone,
wartime memories drag him down.
As a young man fresh from school,
he pledged his allegiance.
Was he a patriot? Was he a fool?
For now, he walks the Garden of Stones
every night in his dreams.
He sees electric red blood and broken bones.
Only the whiskey quells the pain
of the reconnaissance missions
he travels over, and over again.
An alcoholic encountering disgrace,
doomed to eternally spend
twilight in a deep dark place.
How can he do it on his own?
He now lives somewhere between
Hello, Good-Bye, and Leave Me Alone.
How many died while under his control -
Their faces etched forever in the mist.
Only the whiskey frees his tormented soul.
This Bump-in-the-Night War squeezes his heart;
A destructive destination -
hard to keep the living and dieing apart.
A wartime drama from the past,
his dreams are a Documentary
of Real-to-Reel news broadcasts.
The old Soldier remembers standing tall;
Hearing, "Top Secret.", "High Risk."
And then, "Kill them all!"
A crazy, mixed-up war from the start,
Now a hero with no legs;
Ah, but on his chest, a Purple Heart.
So why is he left a broken man,
while others have lived
a life that matters again?
His life is filled with loathing disgrace.
Self-destruction exhausts, depletes, and drains.
He's condemned to run an endless race.
How can he do it on his own?
He now lives somewhere between
Hello, Good-Bye, and Leave Me Alone.
Fighting to forget takes its toll.
Needing to obliterate the past, he believes
whiskey renders him that control.
"How else to face reality's cold, hard facts?",
He asks, "And to accept responsibilities,
for all my exhausting acts?"
"Just help me make it through tonight,"
He slurs his drunken prayer.
"Things'll be different come daylight."
But when morning comes, it's the same.
So he takes another swallow,
and tosses the dice, in this his suicide game.
In the dark half of a house with no doors,
he's slowly being devoured.
A Drunken General, forever waging wars,
with his intoxicated world upside down -
diseased and gasping for breath;
so in danger, this time he'll drown.
Begging for a saving grace,
or else to be eternally doomed
in twilight at this upside down place.
How can he do it on his own?
He now lives somewhere between
Hello, Good-Bye, and Leave Me Alone.