it's not just the color of the night that sends
shivers down every inch of my spine…black
has never bothered me too much
but the sounds are haunting.
the sound of the child's voice breaking bonds
of molecules within the air and the stars whose light
went out scream over my peaceful state.
it's not just my window that breaks.
i have never seen so many branches fall nor
have I ever heard the sound of so many leaves
crunch beneath the sound of rain
f reshly broken pieces of color
a nd hearts that got stuck between the pieces
l aying on the asphalt beneath the
l ovely windowsill that reflects the
i nspiration for a poet and
n ever-ending cycle of life
g oing on, of course, for ever.
the shade of the night isn't so bad
it's the color of the aftermath and sound of
the (screaming) battle that is.