Full Metal Jacket.

[Dagel is a biter]

I met a girl the other day, so many words I couldn't say,
just my awkward stutter, ashamed, I tried to turn away.
She worked at a cafe down the street from where I stayed,
perfect curves so insane... like a daydream I'd replay.
She asked for my name, laughed as I stood there afraid,
wrapped herself around my brain, "relax, it'll be okay."
She'd become my escape, we'd have a son, it'd be great,
numb to the pain that once rained on my parent's graves.
One morning the phone rang, storming and snow paved,
my services are needed to earn this freedom my home frames.
The purpose and reason I'm certain demons hold the gates,
across the ocean, my flaws are motive to unload this AK.
We'd trade letters, stay together forever and never stray,
on the battlefield I'd rattle shields, things won't ever change.

It's been almost a decade, the gold shade of ember has dried
I don't know the date, let alone the names of those who've died.
She quit sending pictures, while my pen scriptures every night,
if these things delivered, then Winter's taking a very long time.
I can't hardly remember her tender tasting kisses goodbye,
and the Bacardi withers away my liver, spraying from itchy eyes.
We move out tomorrow, I choose to drown sorrows with lives,
the truth is hollow... my noose is surrounded by following lies.
Armored to the bone, martyr back home where families fight,
it's harder to know the longer we roam behind enemy lines.
We were ambushed, it was more than our prayers could buy,
but we'd stand strong, a storm in layers and layers of genocide!
When we seen the sunlight, we felt relief and knew it was time,
we fought for our country, and God bet money we'd survive.

I took the first flight home, practiced my words like a poem,
just when my life felt cold, the tragic hearse had finally opened.
Destiny had seen me back, everything in Iraq tied what's broken,
my child can see his dad, and my family would be whole again.
Reaching for the doorknob, releasing warm and calm breaths,
but seeing the whore stop, felt serenity as it tore off my chest.
She shrieked in mid swing, "believe me, it's not what you'd guess,
while you played hero, I remained here, no cash for bills to collect.
Put our boy for adoption, you were deployed, my options were set,
the problem isn't cheating, it's you thinking being gone was best!"
I didn't know how to react, I collapsed before I could gasp for air,
when I woke up, the snow stuffed my lungs and nobody's there.
A note read, "I'm sorry Jon, but honestly it's your fault, I swear."
and I failed to realize that here lies the part of me which cared...

A year has passed, my tears trapped in a porcelain glass,
I fear to ask for forgiveness to my sickness, a torturous past.
The woman I loved was flown above after a disastrous crash,
my twelve year old son helps run errands at a Lazarus rehab.
Nothing makes sense, I'd done things the way I meant to have,
in a lonely house, all my stories cloud as I'm mentally smashed.
Traumatic events, automatic bullets blazing in vision's grasp,
my army medals from disarming rebels are my limit's match.
Collecting dust on a shelf, I trust someone else will give them back,
to an old couple in trouble from the results of what we did in Iraq.
No matter how we act, the ladder's too short for remorse to last,
take what you can grab, before the storm forms into ash.
There's a war called 'life', and it dies quicker than a blade of grass,
so just adore the light, it'll go by once the trigger makes that snap!

We live... we love... we die,
until the end we spend our time.
Trying to be happy in honest lives,
knowing we're bound to say goodbye.