Khôi NguJin-"The BattleField Ghosts"

Meant to be read slowly..

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Dayouni is shrowded in darkness.
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Darkness slowly masking on the room Dayouni slept in
The fervent perspiration of a marksmans Smith and Wesson-
Rested in his sweating palm the weight of a hundred men
In a drowsy state, the somber mood awakened once again..
Voices captivated the essence, lost souls in the pine
Deep within a wrinkled crescent, a question for the blind
"What would a depiction of war on earth look like?"
"And what would the basis be, if that war took life?"
So allure the bait for sights of a warfare struggle
Sketching the blueprints, bared insight of the sordid rubble
More zeal put forth revealed to the hard fought war, so-
The paints continued drawing, his mind taut, and his torso-
Was hung over as he shaded, degraded thoughts on peace
The mutiny uncovered what he sought, the coffin creaks...
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The war of death and rights in jungles of Vietnam
U.S. soldiers tour the sights, a front w/Vietcong
Days astrayed as night outlasted, fighting dusk to daylight
Voices heard in unison, the plight of ducking waisthigh
Sirens boom, the violence, vibrant noise of an earthquake
Silence follows with hollow tunes, joys of happy birthdays
Waving trees and tainted grasses, bloody marked terrain
Bullets scour through the wind, death in the worst of ways
Children losing families, Buddhist's burning in the street
Innocent lives deprived, oh, this is where the ends meet..
Tensions agitate, leading to more bleeding in the process
Two nations--
One surpressed in history, while angst precedes our nonsense
Millions breathless, passed away, the war on Communism, right?
Not really, but a clever charade, riding on our fuming pride
The irony is, antagonists on both sides, blowing wind
Westmoreland, Johnson, Nixon and even Ho Chi Minh
The war grew ageless, many citizens, with deepened sin
The draft was crafted, many feared, death was creeping in...
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Anonymously named, the question was raised
"Have you finished yet?" In obvious pain-
Dayouni was finished on the drawing board, he claimed-
To be the saving grace of the men that died in chains
Chains of abolition, agression under supression
Requested to be blest with a devine intersection
Instead the crossroad, crowded with cowering men
Truth is they died for no cause, powering lesson
As he unveilded the finished art ever so slightly
He revealed gruesome events, a clever indictment
War at it's finest peak, blood and killing sprees
Wasn't what the soldiers seeked, but willingly-
Gave Dayouni another shot, it was a woozy wish
"What is it that these men want?" - "I'm losing it.."
It hit him quick though, a quote of Ulysses S. Grant
Historic in our times, such prolific events
"I never advocated war except as a means of peace"
Dayouni crossed the canvas with an X folding the crease
Held onto the paints, and engraved the plain with ink
Two hands bonded in unity as he framed the link
Soldiers in the air, land, jungle and waters
Statured as greats, staring at a humble coffin
A droplet from the sky, ice with courage and all
These men, now revered on the Memorial wall.
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War is not the events instead more so the outcome
The problem holds the truths, but we haven't found one
Not yet at least, though the cost of war's excessive
And though were not dyslexic we confuse of the message
Life is priceless, lend a hand, each one is precious
Express it right, extend, the reward is impressive.
Dayouni changed his view, and so can you and I
Each canvas we recieve is a gift, given to the mind
Draw away with pride with desire to fulfill
The sign is apparent that the calm times will stay
If you open your eyes to the light 'n reveal
That it's never too late.
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Light finds it's way to You and I.
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With itss eloquent language and positive message, along with its symbolism, this piece by Khoi is an example of something every topical writer strives to construct.Very well written dude =)
Maven.