Nerves on edge, wired to the Max, tight, wound
up taunt like a tightly coiled spring fully
compressed, adrenaline pumping, heart thumping
In anticipation of that old familiar yell
Then like a shot gun blast he flies like a bat
out of Hell.
Eyes wide, palms and body soaking wet with sweat,
Feeling like he is about to explode,
In anticipation of that dreaded familiar word ...
Moving out under hostile fire,
Full gallop on the run, Scared almost to death,
man ... this is fun!
Heart beat starts to slow,
the euphoria subsides but he is addicted to
Oh Allah, will this cycle of
madness ever end?
Will he ever recover?
He is addicted to the rush and war is his lover.