Another night of old terrors!!
Misty dreaming with the Raven of War
upon my shoulder, speaking of all life
that has been lost 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 horrors
of war.
I see more clearly now, for in silence
there is a vast echo of screaming...
and gunfire...and dying men...
dying friends!
How can I be here and almost
always there?
West Fargo, ND