The evening clouds splintered in a rush,
Reluctant embraces in a dash to flee,
Fading over legions of an overriding dusk,
That closes in like cloaks of a fearsome dark.

In homes half lit to a fading light,
Windows are fastened to unseen fears,
Broken panes in fragments of stone,
Stormed by marches of alien fatigues

Behind smashed doors lay clasped hands,
Gathering splinters of hope and despair,
In shreds of awe and portions of creeps,
The pain wont curse and wail won’t weep.

When the living lay damp on stone cold ground
And boots walk over in a triumphant glee
Then kids will flee the tremors of nights
And the dawn will dread to awake in a cage.

~S~

20th March 2013

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