Can Metal Hands Itch?

Walking alone,
In a field black with crows.
Corpses carpet the ground,
But then the ground arose.
Souls I sent down,
Filled hell to the brim.
So the earthy seal burst,
And hell claimed my limb.
Shredded to pieces,
Eyes faded to grey.
Is it still my body,
If it’s three feet away?
Gasping for air,
Like it can fill the hole.
The IV drips,
While pain starts to roll.
I clench my fists,
My arms I heft.
But only the right;
The only one that’s left.
I’m half a human,
Five fingers, five toes.
Two limbs and a soul,
Lost to the crows.
The water runs down,
Dripping off steel.
I traded my flesh,
For one that can’t feel.
Four years have passed,
Since God left me,
Taking my life,
Leaving PTSD.
I paid your settlement,
I paid by force.
I paid the settlement,
For me and God’s divorce.
I fought for these people,
How dare I survive.
It’s hard to be human,
When your limbs aren’t alive.
I wipe my tears on a steel fist,
Vailed in rain and a street lamp’s mist,
The anger builds and the voices scream,
A veteran trapped in a tungsten dream,
They gave me a gun and told me to raid,
But my arm is the steel from which their guns were made,
They told me to run, march and join the parade,
But my leg is the carbon as black as the shade,
They trained me and taught me and told me to kill,
They made me machine so be machine I will,
The neck is snapped by an automaton’s grip,
And slowly the world begins to tip,
Amongst the puddles the body is grim,
Blood runs off of a waterproof limb.