The Warrior's Dance *

Where do I run to flee from the horror.

I have become hollow

and, in ultimate defiance,

I dance in the face of insanity.

The warrior's dance,

a dance of indifference and resignation.

A dance which masks

the endless cries of the dying

that forever echoes in my mind.

The  screams of children

who have lost their innocence.

A sacrificial offering of virgins

who must placate the elder gods.          

The horror.

Where do I run to

to flee from the horror.

I dance, the dance of warrriors.

A dance which masks

the questioning final glance of children

enduring such unbearable pain

that they welcome death

to end their suffering.

Eyes which forever haunt my mind

asking a question I'm unable to answer.

Why? I dare not ask that question myself.

So I dance. The warrior's dance,

and flee inside myself

to seek a tranquil respite,

the internalized eye of the storm

which rages outside me.

A devastating storm

defying even the laws of nature.

A horror,

made by man, for man,

through man, in man,

mea culpa, mea culpa,

mea maxima culpa.

copyright © Camillo C. Bica

*Reference is to T'ai Chi Chuan, a skill I studied and used to                                                              my emotional and psychological advantage during my time in country.