5-apr-2003

Put Them There (2nd version)

In silent horror,
I stare at the scene.
Drinking it in,
Is this only a dream?

The ground is mud,
With small puddles of water and blood.
With griting teeth
I spit on the ground.

It starts to rain,
A dull downpour.
I stand on the edge
Of this new grave.

Memory flashed a burning white,
And I saw their eyes before they died.
I felt their flesh in my hands.
I retasted their death.

I don't remeber the cause;
I can't recall th reason
Why they're in the mud . . .
But I know I put them there.