An Evening In the Village

Things have been tense.

But, it is quiet,

For the moment.

As you are going about

Your evening

After supper,

Before your prayers,

Suddenly

Staccato bullets fill the air
Splintering holes appear
In the walls
Dishes shatter on your table
Glass falls away from your windows.
Quicker than a flash of terrible light
Everyday illusions are gone.

Your family!

A jagged jungle
cacophony of screams!

Tangles of arms and legs

Dive for the floor,

Cower under beds and chairs.

Fear sucks the warmth

From your body.

Everything contracts

To the pupils in your eyes.

You barely notice the

Harsh rasping of your own breath,

The motor-race

Of your vulnerable heart.

The world suddenly shakes

With a satanic roar.

The blackest, foulest smoke in the world

Fills all space;

And when it clears,

Your wife is a scrap of bloody dress.

Your children are torn to death.

Your home is a hole in the dark ground.

You are lost to the howling winds...

Because they are fighting

Over which side has the right

To call your city,

Your street,

Your life

Theirs.