Sitting in my foxhole,
my rosary in my hand,
praying to a now-forgotten God,
left me forsaken again.

An olive branch in one hand,
Army-issued bayonet in the other,
with nothing in between,
but a killing machine.

The grace of God couldn't save me,
how can I save you?
peace comes from the end of a barrel,
the lead the answer to all your prayers.

Dark lights flashing in the back of my head,
my Bible makes such a comfy pillow,
Chaplain's gone, who will give me my Rites?
for I feel the end is near.

Mother Mary, weep for your childern,
we sinners soiled with our sins,
filthy hands hold our helpless hearts,
how can your Son want to save us?

Another time, another Crusade, another name,
it's the same crap, rolled over again,
more lies, mortalized, with body bags,
toe tags covered in tears.

My stained soul caged by my flesh,
can't you see the blood caking both?
death no longer holds his sway on me,
I found out I was in his employ.

Broken and bleeding, scars like tattooes,
pin awards and metals on dead bodies,
there's no difference between heroes and madmen,
except madmen have insanity to claim.

Wooden boxes covered with flags,
just like the one I wear on my shoulder,
left alone with my last friend,
alone to carry my gun.

Now I'm nothing but a statistic,
my name on a black-lined list,
he served us proud, he served us well,
and now he'll serve as gate guard in Hell.

Father, oh Father, was this your pain,
serving in the jungle those long years before?
a black wall in DC remembers those who fell,
but the true lesson wasn't learned.

Here I stand, in that foxhole,
with my last clip in my hand,
praying the rosary for the last time,
God forgive me, I know what I must do.

10/02/2004

Posted on 10/03/2004
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