Restless 2AM

Bloodless blisters,
broken bones and bruises,
leave me listless, numbed
in restless agony.

It’s 2AM and from the ward
I hear a radio blaring lies,
of how our losses lessens
by each day, how
retreat is treason,
and how suffering today
will manyfold
to victories and endless peace.

I think of home and
those whispered words
of bombs and firestorms,
and how the enemies
retaliate with rape.
I see my sister smiling
as she did the day I left.

I think of calmness
in my comrades’ dying eyes.
and if I shut my eyes
I hear me screaming out
the pain of being
forced to live another day,
of only feeling hate,
and gently fall in restless sleep
again, again.

Ravages of war
Francisco Goya

Today Ingrid hosts at dVerse writing poetry about pain. I tried to go into the pain of war, not only of being hurt, but all the fear you must have.

October 12, 2021

23 responses to “Restless 2AM

  1. You travel deep into the pain here, Björn: down through layers of pain and disillusionment. The alliteration is especially effective at driving home your message.

  2. This is incredibly hard-hitting and potent, Bjorn! I resonate with; “a radio blaring lies, of how our losses lessens by each day.”

  3. Another war poem, and a powerful one. Maybe one day you will publish the War Poems, after the success of the publishing of your AGED LIBRARIAN Series; hugs.

  4. The anguish of war and its aftermath. What a dark place to leave its victim.

    Happy Tuesday Björn

    Much💜love

  5. I remember a war documentary recently where a vet said the thing about war is that you have no options, no escape. A truly restless sleep.

  6. “It’s 2AM and from the ward/I hear a radio blaring lies” — These words brutally cut into the present suffering of the persona and take us down the harsh reality of his disillusionment, which for now seems hopeless.

  7. This pain feels so present and the images make it easy to experience both the physical and mental anguish of the moment. The first stanza transports me there.

  8. calmness
    in my comrades’ dying eyes.
    and if I shut my eyes
    I hear me screaming out
    the pain of being
    forced to live another day,

    All of the resolve goes to the dying, and none to the living. Sad.

  9. It’s truly said that only the dead have seen the end of war, and that goes double for the scars it leaves on those who fight and know it most. An empathetic write, and a vivid nightmare journey to what we must accept as peace.

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