Quote:
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In Mosul, a soldier from the 101st Airborne Division was killed by small arms fire before dawn Friday in the western end of the city,
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<font size="2" face="verdana,arial,helvetica">I would appreciate no input on this. We've already hashed it out from one side to the other and that's not what this is for. I wrote this because I want us to think about one American soldier, a person who could have been from any nationality on earth, who died today in Iraq.
Hallowed Ground
He never heard it coming,
Not a sound, and no sensation,
But he's falling,
And he's crawling,
And he's pushing at the dirt,
And his mind, dismayed, denying,
Crying out in silence, crying,
As he feels it deep inside him,
Like the heat of hell on earth.
Then he tries to stand, and stumbles,
Falls, and jars and feels the burning,
Looks, and everything is turning
White, and void of all perspective,
But the pain is real and growing,
And he knows without his knowing,
That he's going....going....going.
So he tries to speak, and stammers,
As his bleeding and his breathing,
And his heart combine to fail him,
Welling up to choke and chill him,
With the thought that he is dying,
And they found him lying, lying
With his hand upon his rifle,
And the corpsman told the captain,
"Sir, he never knew what hit him."
Skein
skein
Hallowed Ground
Linear Mode
