Recurring dream

Hearing the echo of each shot, feeling nothing but the sound.Here, lying on this damp ground, praying hates bullets will not in me be found.

Hoping faith continues to hide me from evils assaults, blood my life already bought.

Hobbled by sins repeated beating against my heart, kneeling, prayers start.

Holding onto this scream, as flesh yields to heated spinning copper, each making me mean.

Hastily pulling myself up, running into a field, evils minions seeking to finish the deal.

Hungry to understand, how a boy, in one action becomes a man.

Hurting, struggling my pant legs turn red, I fought with many, it’s time I fled.

Hating the return of this dream, and all that it means.

Hearing the echo of each shot, each report, and the targets they found.

Happy this time it’s only a dream, not my world again being ripped at the seems.

W.A.manning©2017

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