Thank You, Bacchus* Poem by STANLEY PACION

Thank you, Bacchus. You let me go,
Freed me from your treacherous hold.

The enemy's army caught our ranks unaware;
Our generals had not figured on all-out assault.

A panic irrupted.
There was not time to grab my boots.
I started my run across the Sinai.
I hoped to survive and make it home.

Though still early morning, the sand grew hot.
Before too long my feet were sorely burned.
Snipers hid among the rocks and hills;
They shot and killed us, almost everyone.

Thank you Bacchus. You let me go,
Freed me from your treacherous hold.

I crossed the Nile and my injuries healed,
From death in the desert, abandoned and alone,
Your grace had saved me.
Now I share this marvelous tale;
The troops in rout and I had prevailed.