Nancy L. Meek


Knowing the war indeed goes on and on
fighting battles within the anatomy
I dream of when the torment will be gone
never brought to mind, their souls set free

Once again, I find myself crying
unable to convey how much I care
Hearts poured out, eternally dying
captured by the pens bleeding despair

If I could take the heartaches, I would
make myself the recipient of the pain
I’d bear all the miseries, if I could
and I would do it, again, and again…

Indeed the cost of freedom is greater
than simply risking life and dying
the price paid remains with them forever
haunting them, in their life always prying

Symptoms return when they least expect them
when they think they’ve conquered the thing
as a wound reopened to infection
again to the pain…an endless ring

The nightmares and persistent depression
weigh heavily on their crucified soul
Sacrificed for a duteous expression
they’re still imprisoned in a fighting hole

I try my best to imagine, instinctively
being there…at both ends of the gun
smelling and tasting it all distinctly
in a Catch-22 under a relentless sun

I thank the Lord for those who stood
on the front lines of the trial of their lives
believing they were fighting for ‘the good’
in the ‘great battle’ under treacherous skies

I reach my hand to our veterans, weeping
feeling and absorbing their pain
touched by their torment, creeping
into my heart, again and again

And I will never stop crying
for those who cannot dream
without reliving the fighting and dying
waking each night to a primal scream

Lord, bless them for all they’ve been through
let them know that someone does care
still slowly gleaning their torment true
in this life, where nothing seems fair.