The Dreams
His dreams were explosions and death. Ghosts and gunshots. The air tasted sour and he peered into eyes that were glazed over. Scorching sun, teary eyes, and empty boots. Bagpipes, salutes, and flags. Rifles, boots and eulogies. He dreamt of saying goodbye, over and over again. But now... Now when they'd wake him up, he'd feel her right beside him. He'd open his eyes and see her asleep, so peaceful, so beautiful. He'd smile, the evil melting away. It's hard to feel the sadness when you lay next to an angel. Even in her sleep she's battling his demons, driving them back with ease. He used to wake up kicking, punching and crying. Now he opens his eyes pulls her closer. She's a blessing and doesn't even know it. When the darkness creeps forward threatening to engulf him she's there, holding a radiant shield, forcing back the black. His dreams were the night sky, infinite, dark. But she, she was the starlight, made all the brighter for the darkness, turn