Words and Verse
Death In the Morning
Oct. 24. 2001
A narrative of Vietnam
The yellow sun rose on the trees
The jungle woke to dawn
The clouded flies did buzz like bees
The river's stream flowed on
The azure streak of rushing streams
Reflected sunlights glare
The jungle roof basked in sunbeams
The light reached everywhere
A man walked out among the trees
In military green
The jungles beauty, this he sees
‘Twas not what he had seen
He walked out of the underbrush
His face was worn by war
He stood inside that jungle lush
He had been here before
With hat on head and gun in hand
His eyes betrayed his fear
Then for a while he stopped to stand
As Vietcong drew near
He heard a rustle to his right
He heard the coming fate
He saw them not, though it was light
He feared it was too late
He grabbed his gun and swung it ‘round
And glancing everywhere
And hearing not a single sound
But knowing they were there
And in the brush a glinting knife
Did flicker with a gleam
He held that gun, for his dear life
His nightmare of a dream
The knife then flickered yet again
And flickered out once more
And sweat bloomed on his brow right then
A twig cracked as before
He grabbed his gun and sprayed the trees
With frantic, frenzied fear
He knew he could not rest at ease
He knew they were still near
The knife then flickered yet again
But this time in his face
He shot that knife's own bearer, then
He turned, but did not pace
He knew that there were more of them
And they were waiting still
Awaiting chance to strike and then-
To move in for the kill
Again a gleam, but not a knife,
A glinting of a gun
He knew that he was done with life
He knew the end had come
A shot rang out! His body fell
A hole above his heart
He had died in Vietnam's sad hell
His life began to part
A prance was heard, they ran away
The men who'd murdered him
The last words that they heard him say:
"May God forgive my sins"
And as he died a droplet fell
Upon his stirless heart
And thunder rang like fun'ral bells
God let his soul depart
A torrent poured down through the skies
The rain washed out his blood
And weighted shut his bright blue eyes
With drops of Asia's flood
The heavens cried for him that day
That day of tragic death
That day when all the sky went gray
That day of his last breath
He came back not and day passed by,
His comrades knew his fate
And with the sky they too did cry
Their tears would not abate
The next day they stood solemn still
The sky was still tinged gray
As they themselves went off to kill
To war, they marched away
And each man wept, his grief full-grown
"He was like a brother"
A thought dropped on them like a stone:
"Who will tell his mother?"
The next day though, the sky showed blue
They marched of in the day
Into the day and brave anew
The sky no longer gray
The yellow sun rose on the trees
The jungle woke to dawn
The clouded flies did buzz like bees
The river's stream flowed on
The sunlight's glare pierced through the copse
And on the ground it shone
A corpse there lay beneath treetops;
Lay sleeping all alone
His body lay, arms tense and tight
A testament to hate
And there he shall lie every night
A man, who met his fate
A narrative of Vietnam
The yellow sun rose on the trees
The jungle woke to dawn
The clouded flies did buzz like bees
The river's stream flowed on
The azure streak of rushing streams
Reflected sunlights glare
The jungle roof basked in sunbeams
The light reached everywhere
A man walked out among the trees
In military green
The jungles beauty, this he sees
‘Twas not what he had seen
He walked out of the underbrush
His face was worn by war
He stood inside that jungle lush
He had been here before
With hat on head and gun in hand
His eyes betrayed his fear
Then for a while he stopped to stand
As Vietcong drew near
He heard a rustle to his right
He heard the coming fate
He saw them not, though it was light
He feared it was too late
He grabbed his gun and swung it ‘round
And glancing everywhere
And hearing not a single sound
But knowing they were there
And in the brush a glinting knife
Did flicker with a gleam
He held that gun, for his dear life
His nightmare of a dream
The knife then flickered yet again
And flickered out once more
And sweat bloomed on his brow right then
A twig cracked as before
He grabbed his gun and sprayed the trees
With frantic, frenzied fear
He knew he could not rest at ease
He knew they were still near
The knife then flickered yet again
But this time in his face
He shot that knife's own bearer, then
He turned, but did not pace
He knew that there were more of them
And they were waiting still
Awaiting chance to strike and then-
To move in for the kill
Again a gleam, but not a knife,
A glinting of a gun
He knew that he was done with life
He knew the end had come
A shot rang out! His body fell
A hole above his heart
He had died in Vietnam's sad hell
His life began to part
A prance was heard, they ran away
The men who'd murdered him
The last words that they heard him say:
"May God forgive my sins"
And as he died a droplet fell
Upon his stirless heart
And thunder rang like fun'ral bells
God let his soul depart
A torrent poured down through the skies
The rain washed out his blood
And weighted shut his bright blue eyes
With drops of Asia's flood
The heavens cried for him that day
That day of tragic death
That day when all the sky went gray
That day of his last breath
He came back not and day passed by,
His comrades knew his fate
And with the sky they too did cry
Their tears would not abate
The next day they stood solemn still
The sky was still tinged gray
As they themselves went off to kill
To war, they marched away
And each man wept, his grief full-grown
"He was like a brother"
A thought dropped on them like a stone:
"Who will tell his mother?"
The next day though, the sky showed blue
They marched of in the day
Into the day and brave anew
The sky no longer gray
The yellow sun rose on the trees
The jungle woke to dawn
The clouded flies did buzz like bees
The river's stream flowed on
The sunlight's glare pierced through the copse
And on the ground it shone
A corpse there lay beneath treetops;
Lay sleeping all alone
His body lay, arms tense and tight
A testament to hate
And there he shall lie every night
A man, who met his fate
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Death In the Morning
Death In the Morning
