A silent brooding storm
Creeping mysteriously into my dreams.
Memories. Haunted by images of war
Which follow me day by day,
Morose remembering in my mind;
Unable to get away. Trapped by my veterans helmet.

Memories thrash against the helmet,
Crashing like waves in a storm.
But they can not escape my mind,
For they are prisoner to my dreams
That haunt my day,
Remembering that atrocious time of war.

The "unnecessary war"
As I heard it called by a man wearing a helmet;
My brother during the day,
Yet my partner once arrived the storm.
Our brotherly companionship enters my dreams
From time to time. But unlike the others, he may escape my mind.

I am a prisoner. A prisoner to my mind.
The warden is the war;
Unforgiving, keeping me trapped in my dreams,
Unable to escape the torture. The helmet
Is my cell and the storm
Continues to rain hopelessness, clouding my day.

Will I ever be able to escape someday?
I will never know. My mind
Holds a grip like a vice, so strong not even the storm
Can escape its clench. The war, my war,
Makes me feel scared and alone. I wear my helmet
To shield me, but the act is futile. Nothing can shield me from my dreams.

I can no longer distinguish reality from my dreams.
There is many a day
When I think about what it would be like without the helmet.
What would be going on in my mind?
For the first time I have forgotten the war,
But then, once again, returned the storm.

My dreams are what captured my mind.
Torturing them by day with images of war,
And haunting me underneath my helmet by night, carefully brewing a storm.