PERSPECTIVE - we could both be wrong...AWS

Twilight Dreams What dreams linger when the sun hangs low, And shadows lengthen on life's abated road? Some visions fade, like mist at dawn, While others persist, as time swiftly moves on. We've bid farewell to youthful schemes, Of conquering worlds and chasing extremes. Now dreams are painted in softer hues, More memories of all we've loved, lost, and knew. We dream of moments, precious and fleet, Of conversations we'll never complete. Of books unread and songs unsung, And words of love caught on the tongue. There's melancholy in each new day, As friends depart and memories fray. Yet still we find small joys to prize, A grandchild's laugh, a warm sunrise. twilight years, dreams whisper low,  Of conformity, and curtailed aggression.  Not all our hopes have seen fruition, But some may spark a new tradition. We dream now of leaving tracks in sand, That might, for a moment, help others stand. Of mending fences long left undone, Before the setting of our sun comes ...

S ixty years have passed since my deployment as a combat Marine to Vietnam, yet only a handful of years have granted me the painful awareness of my inability to suppress the demons of PTSD alone. Like so many veterans, these "Demons" have relentlessly stalked me, manifesting as vivid nightmares, subtly altered personas, and deeply buried, often irrational fears. The weight of their presence is a constant, often suffocating pressure. While some veterans manage to navigate the demons' onslaught with a semblance of success, millions more languish in destitution, trapped in needless solitude and agonizing social disconnection. Many silently condemn themselves as cowards, terrified of surrendering to the demons' relentless hold. Countless others exist in a state of perpetual denial, clinging fiercely to their warrior's pride, masking their pain with stoicism. The most vulnerable among us – those tormented by unbearable guilt and haunted by the feeling of utter loneline...