My husband sits for days on end,
Staring through his vacant friend.
My tearful words fall alone,
His mind resides in combat zone.
A man replaced by shell so cold,
Numbed by scars of war untold.
Violent dreams he lives each night,
Lashing out at all in sight.
He returns to war inside his head,
Trauma stained by all the bloodshed.
A trigger pulled, his mind released,
Begging for all thoughts to cease.
His scars remain, but can't be seen,
Buried deep inside his dreams.
I wish that I, could set him free,
From the damaging effects of PTSD.
I pray for the day he's finally home,
So the trauma of war can leave us alone.
By Darren Wall
