Written by Tara Clark
The wind is howling in the night,
The witching hour taking flight.
Ghosts and goblins frighten thee,
Taunting me to try and flee.
Within my head these spirits roam,
Making me feel all alone.
Creating panic and rigid fear,
With noises only I can hear.
Sight, sound, touch, smell,
Existing in a living hell.
Becoming the demon that I fear,
Losing people I held dear.
Looking in the mirror,
What do I see,
But two dull, lifeless eyes,
Staring back at me.
I can fully understand and this touched me. I have done that many times wondering if I would ever become whole again.
Inner Turmoil is what most combat veterans experience. Good work!