Wounds

It was a bright, sunny day in the mid of June

As I was sleeping in the bus

How was I to know that this trip- which I thought was great

Was eventually bound to doom?

I still remember the moment when everybody did bellow,

As from the depths of hell, the devil struck.

As our bus went careening out of control,

To the dark valley deep below.

When I came to, after hours of sleep,

Inside a grand and great hospital,

I could hear the doctors chatter on and on about,

And when they finally went I took peek

Outside I could clearly see

A great deal of people moaning.

Crying as their loved ones lie,

As still as they ever could be.

Even now when years have passed,

When all the scars are long gone.

In my mind's third eye I see

Their moments last.

They rising, slowly, waiting for the nightmare to end,

An end that came very soon.

Death himself, I saw, as he took them away.

But to this day I cannot understand why he was hellbent

On leaving me behind, to endure

The nightmares that soon began.

No one could help me, no matter how hard they tried,

And they will never succeed, I am sure.

I wake up at night, screaming at the top of my voice

Waiting forever for the wounds to fade away.

But it never did, it never will,

I can never shut out the voice.

They come, they scare,

Ask me why I didn't save them.

I have no answer, no voice, and then they

Come at me, start to tear.

Every part of me, slowly,

Making sure I scream.

And then they go back in to the dark,

Leaving me alive, barely.

But found a way I have, which is to

To remember not the accident, but

Every act of kindness I have ever seen,

To remind me that, truly, I am safe.