A Blast from Hell

A blast from hell, and wounded warriors lay upon the desert floor;

Bullets scream overhead while they wait; battle buddies run to their side.

No screams heard, though flesh is torn and bodies mangled.

Pain in a leg, he wants to move it.

Chaos becomes reactions; wrappings become scattered trash on a quiet battlefield.

Words spoken to calm and reassure; while minutes tick slowly by;

With his eyes shielded from a setting sun, “Please, Lord,

Protect us on this field where wounded warriors lie.”

All actions are carefully measured, knowing life is slowly slipping away;

Give this warrior a chance to have one more day

To spend with sons and family and friends.

His life a precious thing; he’s got so much to give.

Finally the wounded warriors removed; the battlefield policed;

Exhausted Soldiers stand. A silent prayer offered.

Saddle up; let’s roll.

Thoughts turn to a better place on a lonely trip back to base; tears leave tracks on dust stained faces.

Trucks pull up to the gate; Soldiers tired, wanting closure for those wounded warriors.

Sadly learn that one did not make it; his face comes to me in my sleep.

A blast from hell takes a Warrior; makes an Angel that watches over

Other warriors in this forsaken place.

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