I can feel my breathe

diminish,

go thin,

even before it leaves

my body,

exhaling out of control

as it insanely tries to justify

the war I go through,

a soldier never quite alone

in this jungle wilderness,

a beast

camouflaged

in plain sight, standing out

as death rolls the dice

with a grin that bares rotten, stunted baby teeth

and a certain foul essence that passes

for conviction, assuredness,

a firmness of plan

as jungles collide

and bitter battles

see the atmosphere

die…

I survive

another night

out here in the cold,

sweating, not in fear,

but in anticipation

of meeting the terror

in this barbarous daily fixture,

and knowing

I

fight daily

against myself.

 

Ian D. Hall 2018