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The Hold |
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Caught in the coils of PTSD,
Secret thoughts clasped
close to me
And locked forever deep inside;
Is it some
special sort of pride?
I don't think you can
understand
What sears my being like a brand
Etched
layers deep into my soul,
Put there by War's red hot
coals.
Lurid nightmares that end in tears
Conjured
up from deep-seated fears
Living in memories decades old...
Haunting stories I have never told.
Dismaying,
shifting changes of mood,
From laughter to a dark-hued
brood,
Cause loved ones to shy away,
Uncertain how
I'll react today.
And many times I've stepped back
From that abyss, so deep and black,
To resume my life and
carry on
Yet still wishing that I had gone
Down
toward the beckoning release,
That enticing promise of
Final Peace.
But something holds me in this life,
Despite the pain and internal strife.
It is the love
that I can see
Deep in your eyes reaching out to me...
Embracing me with the eternal hope
That, if I can learn
to really cope
With the demons that beleaguer me,
The day will come when we both are free
To bask in the
warmth of our love's sun
United together forever as one. |
By
Thurman P. Woodfork
Copyright 2005
Listed
March 12, 2011 |
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