Have spent too much time in company of death
As at every turn, still smell its vile breath
Odour clings to cloth, pervading your being
Feeling its presence without even seeing.

The stealth in the night of some furtive dark sleep
As you pray to your God, your life to safe-keep
Feeling for a weapon, pull safety catch off
Body skin starts crawling at softest of cough.

Rustle in the jungle; chatter of the teeth
Move soft off your bedroll, pull knife from its sheath
The deep smell of deaths odour now very loud
The Goosebumps on your skin are standing quite proud.

Death is real close now, that strange feeling inside
A soldiers job, to be done here with pride
Body is so taut, ready for the attack
Face proud to the front; never show them your back.

A movement of something; a small grunt of breath
The quiet attacker then comes to his death
My nostrils now filled with vilest of smell
That follows me onward, even onto HELL.