I ride along a path passing lifeless vines
and through phantom mists.
Ahead a sign of red, with gold letters saying:
“All who enter here leave all hope behind.”
Green ghosts marching or running pass
chanting tales of heroisms long past.
Apparitions carrying clubs of metal and wood
are silhouetted against a moon of glass.
In the distance I hear a camp bell ring.
Searching, I see a thousand faces.
Eyes open wide in fear and admiration
questioning, is this a hero’s end of things?
Why had I taken my life
and chosen death?
To wise counsel I’d been deaf.
Was this the time of forever strife?
A green and beige apparition with a brown halo,
a squarish of many colors upon its chest,
a wide belt with a large golden buckle appears.
And with the voice of a god of war did bellow:
“Welcome to the Marine Corp Recruit Depot
Parris Island, South Carolina gentlemen.
You have 60 seconds to get your asses outside
and on the yellow foot prints, 15 are already gone.”
The adventure had begun.