PTSD and ME

Where did Time go, and should I know?
Sometimes I wonder about the Show.
You guys remember the heat and the Snow.
Doesn't really matter where you grow...
Grow, that's a great way to put it,
This life is dying like a Black Rose.
The Red door is closed and I don't know,
Knocks on the doors and the screams of those.
I woke up this morning, and Decided to pray.
I question God throughout my day.
PTSD is just a word to me, but, The War never left and I just cannot see.
I'm blind and deaf, my legs are gone,
My life is not my own, it should be a sad song.
Where did everyone go, where are my friends?
They speak to me but, in the end,
I know their gone, blown to bits,
But, I ask them daily, about the shit.
I'm lost in the dark, and I hear the screams,
PTSD, it's an everlasting bad dream.