Would you go back?

"Negative! NEGATIVE!" He dove to the ground,

The bud in his ear scarce beat the sound.

Of a thousand bullets winnowing and red,

Sometimes he thought he'd be better off dead.

"He's in the hooch with a black flag - there!"

Popped a dirty rifle overhead without a care.

There it was spraying and a pair of desert hands,

"On the sill: there he is!" Just above the sands.

A geisha's fan overhead of lead and tracer,

Every third shot and you could see the danger.

Then the guy ducked and a huge crashing BOOM!

There was our tank on an apex loomed.

Cut through the hut like a needle through paper,

Dust, blood, fresh - like a wrist and razor.

Silence at first and everyone reloaded,

And all at once the space filled with people - goaded.

Then it all went suddenly [ ]

The world, the war - everything stank.

[ ] like God had demanded time stand still,

[ ] like a last breath without the kill.

Then silence.

Then blackness.

Then torture.

...Patience...

Over the years the war had lost none of its nascence.

Then twenty years later it is a [ ] he cannot remember,

The war, the world, [ ] on a red September.

If only he knew that frightful [ ] in his head;

Sometimes he still thinks he'd be better off dead.

But it was good - it was noble - it was the people he freed,

They were the prize, and not a billionaire's greed.

But it's the [ ] - the black hole he cannot shake,

"Tell me the [ ] in my head for God's sake!

Then an Iraqi woman approached out of the blue,

Beautiful, stunning - hijab wrapped true.

"Would you go back?" She said in perfect enunciation,

"Would you go back?" She said without hesitation.

[ ] was his stare as if she somehow knew,

Of the awful [ ] she must have a clue...

"Stay with us when you come" - Iraq is waiting;

'Let me revive that memory from fading...'