The 21st of December

Life, turned upside-down

In an instant; from the shadows

Of nowhere death cries out

Its shrill grotesque voice

That calls in many ways.

Prickled fear electrifies the body

As pure madness slowly erupts

From every space and nook;

The only thing that drowns

Out the cries of the dying

Is exhalation from the reaper. You

Will only hear him if he is close

To you; the cold breath misty

Arms that embrace, envelop.

Enshroud. Cry, plead, surrender

Hope – he has come for us this day

In the form of a lone Iraqi soldier.

Our piece of mind has been killed;

Death becomes us.

About anotherwarriorpoet

Mathew Bocian served as a Captain in the United States Army with the Stryker Brigade and was deployed to Mosul and Tal'Afar in 2004 - 2005, and to Baghdad for The Surge in 2007 - 2008. He left the Army in 2012 and now uses his poetry as a way to heal from the traumas of war, while attempting to express to readers the realities of war. He is the recipient of the Bronze Star and Purple Heart, and holds a master's from the Graduate School for Public and International Affairs at the University of Pittsburgh.
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2 Responses to The 21st of December

  1. Pingback: A Christmas Present from the Hajj | The Ghosts of Tal'Afar

  2. Pingback: Time Does Not Heal ALL Wounds… | The Ghosts of Tal'Afar

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