Caught in the crossfire
Through the blinds, shackling the silvery glow of a distant icy moon
leaks the meerest glimmer of radiance.
Throwing errie shadows on the wall bedecked with images..
Images of all that could and should be ...but isn't.......
The noiseless cacophony of silence- broken only by the sound of a heart beating so fast it threatens to escape its protective cage,
A peace descending, that is like the ceasefire on a battlefield...
A battlefield strewn with lifeless faces with grotesque grimaces that lead them through to the afterworld.
Dismembered bodies and souls that will never reunite and only serve to show the utter mania of conflict...
A distant scream of a fox, feral cats claiming territory;
a never-ending scenario of want, need,anger, pain and despair
Then...ceasefire over, as fast as it began.
First one voice, them the other, rising in crescendo and venom...
The sound of movement, fierce and unrelenting,
then crying that begins defiantly, but ends up piteously.
Another night...
Another day....
Another fight...
No other way...
My heritage, my memories,my childhood, .....my folks.
Lodigiana
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Comments
Hi Cherie xx ..how right you are about what children can endure and experience and how they appear to survive it and hide the trauma.Hearing your own parent crying, especially alone, is such an impotent feeling- I feel it for you hun and all kids who go through this. Thank you for taking time out to read my work and commenting- it always means so much to me....
Lodigiana xx