Ghosts
As light as shadows, they descend,
Translucent, with no more bearing than a caress.
And yet, somehow, they are like lead weights pressing on my mind,
A drowning man I am, but not
Under water,
The weight of my memories and grief crush me instead.
A breeze whistles by my face, I cringe away I can feel it, the bullet.
And it takes me back.
Back to that battle, outnumbered fifty to one.
My friends falling, one by one.
The blood.
I see my best friend collapse, scarlet arcing from his chest.
I must go on, fight the need to run to him.
My friends fallen, all together.
Their cries.
My friends.
Brothers in arms, brothers in death.
They fell together.
They are gone.
Mere ghosts remain.
The faded images of where my friends once stood.