I remember this day in pain and sorrow
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  1. #1

    I remember this day in pain and sorrow

    In remembrance of this day
    November 8, 1967 ~
    by Cook Barela



    Photo taken on November 8, 1967

    For years I have dreamed, I have seen this day,
    this scene plays forever in my dreams;
    I have visited this place in time,
    in the visions of the night
    In the dark shadows of pain
    In the crevices of memories sealed forever long ago.

    In dark shadows and in bright lights.
    The faces change,
    they are dark and they are black,
    and my hand holds my weapon in tight
    Up against my cheek
    And my weapon will not fire
    And I hunger for rest

    I seek the pain and the sorrows of war
    My head aches and drops of sweat
    Blanket my mind
    Soiled by time
    The wet drops flow slowly down between my eyes
    teasing, stinking my eyes, with their salty embrace

    The wind blows, and slowly caresses
    The green grass before my eyes
    In the wet rice paddy fields
    The grass waves, and gives way
    To show me the horror and pain

    The tears of the mind
    Take revenge for what I cannot
    for what I will not do
    but my soul craves to fire
    to set the captives free

    but my hand will not move
    and when it does my weapon will not fire.
    The terror of the day, the visits of the night
    Is ever before me and I cry in its pain
    And only the rain of fire from the sky
    sets me free



    All day long, the enemy runs before me
    All day long I ache in pain
    My gun stands still
    In hunger and desires
    to touch the weakest soul
    and take away the breath of life

    For this I live
    For this I cry
    They run before me
    Laughter and pain its all the same
    400, 700 ~ 800 yards away
    I can touch them
    If I dare

    My finger on the trigger
    My mind is clear
    It will not hear the voices
    That are not there

    but I can not, I will not open up
    sandwiched in between
    the fleeing enemy soldiers
    are the women, and the child,
    the crippled with age
    Young beautiful women, full of life
    Already dead
    Beautiful young girls and the children
    That cry

    I could hit the enemy with a burst of fire,
    This I know, but oh, oh, my soul
    I dare not open up
    They push they shove and life is vain
    Life is gone’
    There is no laughter
    And the air has no smell
    And time waits for no one
    But for the angel of death at the door

    But in the end
    it made no difference
    the phantom jets came
    and dropped the white clouds of fire
    and the rain from hell
    melted heaven’s door

    The darkness and the pain,
    the fear and the joy of relief
    The anger and the desire to set right
    what had been wronged
    flees now with the night

    The enemy decimated
    drained of life before my eyes
    and so were the little children
    and the young women
    once forced to run with the demons of hell

    The planes dropped their loads
    And as the dark gray clouds of death
    Rose to the sky
    the enemy fired at the silver bullets
    but death and destruction was at their door
    and their cries rose high, higher than the sky

    then the silver angels lingered in the air
    dipped their wings and said goodbye
    The blackened sky bellowing farewell
    My soul would find no rest in hell


  2. #2
    Cook

    Thank You......

    God Bless.........

    Sempers,

    Roger and Ellie


  3. #3
    Marine Free Member montana's Avatar
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    to sad


  4. #4
    Registered User Free Member
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    NO WORDS CAN TOUCH THE DEPTH OF FEELINGS HERE COOK
    LISA


  5. #5

    Thanks everyone

    Time passes but it always stands still




    Rog, Lisa and Montana, Thanks for your response.


    Montana I knew another guy with a state name. He was called "Tex", but don't member what state he was from.


    LOL


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