Ghosts
He won't go out in battle. 'Nam taught him that.
If he fights, he wins.
I'm not afraid to die –
Funny he'd always meant that about fights. He can't fight with the voices in his head.
Some days, they battle it out –
He steps out.
Twig – twig – twig –
Still small voices follow him everywhere, a plaintive threnody rising above the dull low roar of the crowd.
He can see them still, with every twist, with every punch –
Shadowy faces in the periphery of his vision.
And now, engulfed in the depths of this blazing hell –
The flaming faces close in.