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.
