a Toll to pay

I killed them and still
they rose to haunt me
in my sleep
and death’s hand
tortured me.

I tried to let it die
with time,
but it lingered
deep within my soul.

They called it peace
but never could
warriors keep,
the personal fatalities
of war away.

In my agony
I tried to forget,
but the demons
imbedded into me
did not want to rest.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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