|
William F. Stocks |
|
Where no gods forgive us these days are surreal time is slowed like morphine dreams feelings numbed actions random reactions today I shot a kid holding a gun no older than my little brother he died with his eyes in mine they held no fear of death yet bled me out across the scene beyond the walls behind the veil he rests among the multitudes where no gods forgive us The Wall let war take me for I have heard the Keres scream as death's hand bruised my flesh held dying breaths and listened to last words of gods and men my destiny of honor lies denied in body bags of lives I could not save silent mouths agape with absent words like deafened cannons roar from quiet graves though I could not heal the wounded with these bloodied hands their wounds beseech my fingers even now as they trace the names of comrades lost and salute the souls of brothers never known Beach Party drizzlin' dead-ass weary to the bone jungle rot and fever took the kid but his soul found the leg they lost in country firebirds freefallin' flat spin missile locked five & dime shepherds watching over their flocks by night potbellied pigs find a morning angel red dwarf star glows grace incoming LZ smokes green mercy no healings here among the bloodless faces reckless wise men escape prophesy on Christmas whiskey and roast pork half-burned napalm bonfiring exotic driftwood washed ashore on China Beach |