We wage a raged filled battlefield ringing across our mindscape's eye; at times I witness up the periscope as the field of vision erupts with wreckage strewn across the grounds - not back in the place of death and decay, but at home - we brought it home.
I left everything that was good in me back there; I return there where I desire most to be, the me who I was before the me I am today. When I try and tap into the good part of me, the thing that took over me - has a death grip on my soul. I wage a battle today for my subconscious control that intercedes rather objectively when in spirit I pray for others and in deed serve others.
When do I who fought and continues to fight receive the help that I so greedily gave away? I pray this in His name.
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Posted
Aug 30 2010, 10:12 AM
by
PTSD: A Soldier's Perspective