Windows in the aftermath of a war zone

battered shutters hanging on one hinge

Breeze blowing through frames into homes

Glinting shrapnel shards in things

Glass that used to keep elements out

Along with the sounds of invaders

Taking their spoils unimpeded

Rich in the things we once needed

Like bread

We walk amongst rubble and the dead

At least the bombs have stopped

The streets no longer liquid red

Only when I go to bed

With eyes closed I still see it all

Cold sweats, as the canons bawl

Glass shattering in the dark of night

Only window frames see morning light

With eyes closed I still always see

Reminded of when we were free

Wish I, could, close my eyes to get away

From the rubble, rape and bitter cold

These eyelids fail me every day

The broken windows to my soul