Praying For Accuracy
by DarkAngelOne

the path was so clear,
which led me here.
and looking back,
i can still see it,
clearly as the day i left.
it seems so simple
to just turn around
and follow it back to where i began...
but it no longer leads back home.

the road to home,
is somewhere else.
somewhere much further ahead.
it isn't possible
to work your way back down
the one you came on,
you have to complete
a full circle instead.
but what frightens me,
is that i just go further and further
down that road.
i haven't even begun any turns
to begin the circle home,
and with everything i've seen and done,
half the time
i can't even imagine the idea,
of ever going home again.

i knew when they deployed me,
no one could ever know,
of the things we came in here to do.
all our assignments would be this way,
it's the only kind we do.
sometimes, things are so dangerous,
that keeping people safe,
can only be accomplished,
if they never even knew.
but no one planned
for things to go like this,
or what it would put us through.

this op was supposed to be an overnighter,
and we've already been out here
for over two months.
we're on our own,
just the six of us,
and on the run.
and there's no clear road now,
to point to where we should go.
no where planned
for us to get out.
no plans were made for what we didn't know.

it's been a couple of weeks
since we left the safe house
and thing have drastically changed.
they know we're still out here,
no longer a surprise,
we are now the hunted,
with money being offered for our lives.
we travel mostly in darkness,
and we rest in the daytime,
in places where we can hide.
but the people are starving here,
and the young men,
are tempted by the price they offer,
because life is so hard,
with no end in sight
so night after night,
they come for us.
and we end up in firefights,
with young men ,
we didn't come in here to fight.

but nothing makes sense in time of war.
when people think killing each other,
is an option to explore,
the first casualty has just been lost;
the loss of sense,
is always the first casualty in war.
but how did i become,
this whole other person?
or was he always there inside of me,
and i just never knew.
and is this who i must now be,
for the rest of my days,
or can i ever be as i was before,
if i could only find my way?

these questions haunt me,
as i prepare my weapons,
and alert the team
i'm "going hot",
just before taking down my target,
as once again, the world explodes all around me,
and the familiar sounds of death,
cries out in the night.
and i wonder....

when it was i began praying for accuracy,
instead of praying to keep me safe and alive?
i hadn't even noticed,
i'd begun doing this,
until just this night.
but none the less,
this is my prayer (truth be known).
and i think that gives
a pretty clear indication,
of how far
i've gone down that road,
and how far i am,
from ever finding my way back home.

Special Operations
March, 1980

Copyright © 2008 - DarkAngelOne
Published: 1/24/08   ·  Author's Page   ·  Next Poem