I am the Warrior (PTSD)

I am the warrior with sword held high
long after the battle is done.
 The dead lay silent of their battle cry,
the living have all since run.

I am the warrior crying out,
the boy already flown.
Toys lay broken down with age,
the child, a man now grown.

I am the warrior marching on
a bridge already crossed,
reaching out for shadows
of comrades long since lost.

I am the warrior coming home
to a world in darkness, blind,
to the images of war's scarred heart
still beating in my mind.

I am the warrior alone,
fighting just to breathe.
Lover's smiles have long since passed,
a soldier now I grieve.