Back Into Hell

Back into hell – A Foundation poem
The howling wind steals the breath
I would have used to chant;
Boots, belt, gun, mask
My gear, my only chance

The rear doors open wider
The “go” light blinks to life
I follow my commander
Out into the sky

Plunging downward, rising panic
I still don’t know what is the target
Am I falling to my death
Am I heading into hell?

The radio flares, static in my ears
Broken words not mine to hear
Clouds part, I see a landscape
I see a place that’s gripped in fear

Feet find ground, my head yet spinning
Friends are screaming, rifles spitting
Things surround me, tall and dark
I feel the devil grip my heart

Some letters and number is what they say
That’s all they give them for a name
Stamp them; label, date and time
These darkest nightmares from our minds

Containment is a word to me
A bureaucratic fantasy
A white coat will keep you safe
When Kevlar fails and weapons break

The task force folds, retreat is called
Not one of them is yet to fall
These things are not born of this realm
Through withering fire, they overwhelm

Engines scream over my head
I tumble down and wait for death
The bombs explode, the missiles hit
I cower and cry inside my pit

I stand up in a different world
Where fires sputter and smoke whirls
My friends are dead, I am alone with fear
From out of the darkness, more appear

I dream of this when I can sleep
After a pill and a solid drink
I still remember how I felt
When my orders arrive:
Back into hell.
Suicide note of Agent Baomer, commander of MTF Sigma-7

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