Conflict Poem by Matt Swanson

A personal battle waged in my soul
The personal sacrifice taking it's toll
I don't know who's good or bad
As warriors charge in, iron-clad.

The fight rages on, no sign of stopping
The soldiers press on, steadily dropping
The heartbeat slows as the blood flows
Through all the pain, no personal gain

The war is over, but no one has won
We all walked away from the rising sun
No one happy, their brothers were dead
Wishing they could take the good friend's stead

At that skirmish, I was a fighter
I was destroyed by the mighty smiter
Fallen down, under a great warhammer
My sight grew dark, my thoughts stammered

That terrible battle was but mark one
On the face of the war that was never won
The war within me, that no one could see
I see my family, crowded around my body.

I kill the light from the bright red flame
Lay down my book, lay down my shame
To sleep till tomorrow, another personal sorrow
The nightmare I dream, but I can't scream.

I mourn the men who died for my life
To be filled with so much sickness and strife
Was their bravery all for naught?
Nay, I say, or so I thought...

To be Continued