Through the first door stood a solider,
Conflicted and alone,
He couldn't move his mouth to speak,
In his hand he held a phone.
He looked up as he received
The end of his own war,
Through trembling hands and nervous eyes
Pointed to the door.
The second door showed a woman,
Victorian and young,
she looked me in the eyes and screamed,
Stood screaming for her mum.
Her lips were blue and her eyes cold,
She didn't breathe for air
as her screams chased me onwards
And I stood afraid on the stair.
The third door showed a nursery
With debris on the floor,
The toys were watching as I stepped,
Saw his mother on the floor.
Looking lost he peered out,
Hands reaching for a hug,
I leant forward, close enough
I woke up.