Military Coop and Neglect: Disaster

Abandoned Shores

Day two brought a sky of ashen gray,
The earth still trembling in disarray.
In the chaos, the promise of aid stood tall,
But promises, like waves, can fall.

The USMC, proud in their green and gold,
Came as lions, fierce and bold.
Their boots struck hard, their words rang loud,
But the weight of duty can thin a crowd.

By nightfall, they were gone, their banners bare,
No farewells whispered, no burden shared.
A Red Cross zone, now stripped of might,
Left one lone swimmer to face the fight.

He stood amidst evacuees’ pleas,
A sea of fear breaking at his knees.
A hundred voices, a thousand cries,
No hands to help, just silent skies.

The radio hissed, but no voice replied,
“Air support’s coming,” he calmly lied.
Extraction promised, a hollow refrain,
Hope’s thin thread fraying in the strain.

Three days stretched like a cruel mirage,
No reinforcements, no entourage.
He bore the weight of their desperate stares,
A captain of chaos, adrift in prayers.

The evac zone became his cross to bear,
With each new dawn, despair laid bare.
He rationed supplies, stretched every crumb,
Spoke words of courage when his own tongue was numb.

But anger burned like salt in the wound,
The betrayal of comrades, a trust marooned.
Left to sink or swim in the rising tide,
While others fled, he stayed and tried.

At night, he stared at the starless void,
A soul unmade, a life destroyed.
Yet still, he rose, his will like steel,
A lone savior bound to a grim ordeal.

The evacuees saw not the man undone,
Only the strength he forced to run.
A swimmer adrift, yet he would not drown,
Abandoned, but never laid down.