by John G Evans

Created on: October 12, 2010

The night I died begins

with fallacious days and beguiling nights,

Abstracted delusions, ambivalent fright,

With no ratification, no! Not at all;

The twilight objection lye

In an unconscious slumber

While Satan’s advocate stands performing

his cunning stroke of a crafty dawn.

Months, no years, no decades intolerable,

At times the skies infused upon the earth, drops of blood and sweat and tears;

As the seasonal monsoon

Of spicy winds,

Fly to the eastern sky;

Not even an abject coward, but

A contemptuous renegade

Who slay his haughty demons

From his horrid past

Upon this virginal flesh of mine

that fell upon

the night I died.

Panic destroys quietly in the darkness, (after a simulated fire-fight),to face a raging fire against a Cong from ‘Nam’ we did not know; paralyzed with fear, a half century embrace as the pain feverishly kills; whereby, sings a chanted cadence as illusive demons  through the Halls of Montezuma, under a savage sky of a licentious lunar, midnight moon’s neglected sighs; Why does thou cry?

One hour sleep of twenty-four; a berating attack of verbiage as the swollen blood rises and savage delusions imbedded within this gifted mind, now infected within the state of my soul, I surely can’t hide, one’s firey response, counter-reflects and ascertains; behold - embraced in the eye; whereby, sings a chanted cadence as illusive demons through the Halls of Montezuma, under a savage sky of a licentious lunar, midnight -moon’s neglected sighs; Why does thou cry?

 These sins of one brings his crimson death into this night, as an M-14 bullet fired and lodges its metal of death deep inside the epicenter of this wounded warrior’s heart, past all organs, the liver, brains, lungs and spleen, straight to the heart where only God’s Truth shall surgically remove it from my soul; destroys all hope of a 20 year Marine; sings a chanted cadence as illusive demons  through the Halls of Montezuma, under a savage sky of a licentious lunar, midnight -moon’s neglected sighs; Why does thou cry?

Fermented birth, a demon’s jungle in a partisan war zone, drilled to kill, an enemy who assaults in the night by the score;  no refuge for this solitary soul, no, none at all; from deep within, the furthest depths, desecrated, silent, ancient plunder of a fraudulent soul, poor ravishment, the masses toll; sings a chanted cadence as illusive demons  through the Halls of Montezuma, under a savage

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