Daybreak.
Shadowy, last quarter moon.
Twirping Birds.
Partly cloudy sky.
Dew-drenched leaves.
Yellow, brown and green.
Better days.
Better days I've seen.

Standing at the door.
Death, the grim reaper, along for the ride.
Arm casually draped around my shoulder.
Gently coaxing me inside.
Close your eyes, he whispers.
Resistance is futile.
This wasn't how I envisioned it.
Suicide, bottom of a hill, not my style.

The barbarians left me no choice.
Torture, sodomy, rape.
Filthy inside and out.
Self-inflicted deathblow. 
It's the only dignified escape.
Begged, pleaded, cried and cried.
Not for my sake. 
No, I had pride.
My only concern.
The child I carried inside.

Keep your eyes open, they yelled at him.
Watch what we're doing to your wife.
Eveything I had, valued,  they took.
Then generously spared my life.
As long as there's breath, there's hope.
Sounds good.
It means nothing without the desire to cope.
A career soldier, a strong woman, had 
a reputation for being tough, fearless and
mean.
I no longer recognize her.
Better days.
Better days I've seen.

Standing at the door...


Written for millenniumbitch.com


Better Days
 
Copyright © 2001 Ahkenaton  All rights reserved 10/06/01