Gallant Warriors Morph into the Shadows of War
By a102866
- 469 reads
Smudges of ash overlaying
taught skin, brittle gristle;
the latest relics of war
whose still life portraits
linger in the minds
of the destined ones.
But one of the many
lingering shadows stretching
from fallowed fields
their darkened negatives
all archived in the same album,
now collecting its latest sacrificial lamb.
His cold limbs are devoid of color
trapped in the prism of the minds
of friend and foe alike,
soon lost in the quick flashes
of undeveloped folios
lying only in vaulted memory banks;
a fleeting life and memory
sanctioned on the altar of immediacy.
A shallow marker etched in the psyches
of men conditioned to: premeditation
without introspection or reflection
survival without deference or contrition.
Their moral code encompassing only chivalry,
until exchanging their fatigues for T-shirts
and swapping the adrenalin of war
for the mundane rhythms of civilian life.
Physical rigors morphing into psychological tremors
the dark colors of the prism enfilade the brighter flashbacks--
the shrouds of dead friends stenciled
over minds unconditioned for grieving
blips of enemy carcases etched on consciences
once seared in the fray of conflict,
now tortured by unalterable deeds
and the permanence of their actions
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