"The Weight of Sand and Shadows"

"The Weight of Sand and Shadows"

In the land where the sun refuses to die,
I walked through a desert that swallowed the sky.
Operation Iraqi Freedom—just a name,
But in its grip, nothing stayed the same.

The dust clung thick, choking the air,
Faces in the crowd—a vacant stare.
Each step felt heavy, a toll on the soul,
As cities crumbled, swallowing whole.

Through streets painted red beneath the haze,
Hope felt distant, lost in the maze.
The heat burned deep, but colder still,
Was the silence that followed each kill.

I carried a rifle, but the real weight
Was knowing death waited, silent, in fate.
To kill or be killed, the line was thin—
Morality twisted in a war no one wins.

In the shadows of Baghdad, I saw men fall,
With the echoes of promises we couldn’t recall.
For every corner hid a ghost,
Of friends turned memory, soldiers turned host.

Then came Enduring Freedom's hollow call,
Where Afghan winds whispered of nothing at all.
The mountains loomed like graves in the sky,
Where only the lost dared to die.

The valleys held secrets, ancient and deep,
And every breath I took felt steep.
I climbed through the cold, past the bones of the old,
Knowing some truths were better left untold.

I saw brothers fade, and friends disappear,
Swallowed by the weight of fear.
We wore our scars like badges of shame,
In a war where no one remembers your name.

And though I came back, I never left,
A part of me stolen, a part bereft.
The desert still clings to my skin,
Reminding me of the darkness within.

Now, through the dust and endless night,
I wonder if freedom’s worth the fight.
For the cost was paid in blood and bone,
And the soldier’s heart is forever alone.