The betrayal of the body

War poem exploring what happens to a minority of war verterans

The betrayal of the body, its short life
The mistakes from long past staying as markers
Badges of regret and the memories of pain
Incomplete I stand, missing the ability long forgotten
The movie house of my mind is still showing that day, that fateful day
Sanity in the front row counting the cost
Grey now, counting the years like days, waiting for an end
The young charm all but gone
Trapped in a withering, painful shell, ever waiting
Waiting for an end
Back on the day, that fateful day
With young charm put to good use
For queen and country, to the glorious death
For the painful misery of war
The slow motion ambush in black and white
The silent movie rolled on showing me an incomprehensible horror,
and a painful reality
Busted by ideas long forgotten
The kind surgen kept the body alive
The kind surgen took the leg
Now this ageing temple is falling apart, laying in ruins from a war long past
The betrayal is stabbing the mind in the back
A diseased, nostalgic ranting that never makes sence
Still waiting, always waiting, waiting for an end.