by Samuel De Lemos
In my dream I’m running from the Japanese
chasing me somewhere in the Philippines.
I’m desperate to get away as they corralled us
in a room-there I saw a door to the outside
behind a veil inside. I was once stationed
in Angeles City, at Clark Air Base.
It’s familiar to me, the death march
went right through here. Desperate men, during evil
times. I’m running from shack to shack trying to
evade the inevitable. Capture, almost always meant
death. The enemy-ruthless bushido warriors who
saw surrender as a disgrace.
Why am I being chased by a band of fearless
warriors, through the jungles I once been to?
I’m caught like a lark in a net, I’m caught in the nets of death.