The Devil's Spawn

Originally an assignment for my English class. We were assigned a decade and were to do a parody of the rhyme scheme and a few themes from Poe's, The Raven. From point of view of Vietnam vet.

The Devil's Spawn

Once upon a late night dance, as I lifted the drink in my hands

A far out party with disco lights was on

I watched the crowd, then everything was too loud

As if someone flipped a switch, there I was back in 'Nam.

No longer was the party rad, I was faced with bombs

Even though the war was long gone

In flashbacks I wasn't alone, I was with my comrades I'd felt I'd forever known

My hearing is gone but I try to listen on the coms

Gunfire is all around and my kin are dropping as the enemy surrounds

Imagine losing it all to a bomb

I was the only one left and my leg was gone

Man is not the evil behind this dawn

Everything went black, I thought I was over but a medic brought me back

I should've died with my men by the blast of the bomb

It was all unfair, I failed my men. I became despair

Their lives were cut short but mine was meant to be long?

I abandoned my family, they are all gone

The culprit is the root of all harm

Bodybags filled with my men, I fought for my country...I lost a limb

Clinging to life from dusk 'till dawn, following orders but I am in the wrong?

All of these people are ungrateful. I weep but I am not hateful

I return to the world, a belt tight on my arm

I hate to do this but I need to be calm

I needle in my arm, I am but a pawn

This is how I escape all the pain I cannot take

You need something special out in 'Nam

Not something acquired, but something people desire

Something to confront a bomb, the jungle, and the VietCong

That something is courage, not brain nor brawn

Courage to face the one that sin rests on

Back in the states, you go to disco or a date

They do this but a war is on

I can't do this, I'm torn within. I need the help of heroine

Nineteen years, can't buy a drink but my leg is gone

Can barely get a cigarette but I lost my brothers to a bomb

War is the Devil's spawn

No job, it's hard to get hired; nobody wants a cripple who had to retire

Out in the streets I hear a bird singing its song

I looked to see and I view a crow unfamiliar to me

Still, I felt I knew this bird, as it stares at me long

My men are in this bird, to me its song

 Just seemed to say, "Fight on."

Author's Note

Please tell me your thoughts.

Reviews

[Kent Clark]

Very deep and thoughtful work. I really like the way this flows together.