Anthony W. Pahl

BURIED ALIVE

If dead men could just walk – disappear from our dreams.
If a switch could just silence our dead friends’ pained screams!
If only the image of bloody lurid red dirt
could conceal the visions of the wounded and hurt.

If only the years could erode all our pain
If only the memories would never remain
If only the grave marching of dead men’s feet
was not reinforced when our hearts missed a beat.

Like wraiths meandering through our hell on this earth
Asking, no, pleading to be shown their true worth.
We who can’t even come to terms with ourselves
Bear the incredible burden for both of our hells.

The discord in the reality of their death and our life
Conceals all clear knowledge at why we survive.
We died! Our minds died in that place of pure hell
doomed ever to wander, a place never to dwell.