A Place of Shallow Peace
I traveled to my hometown for my father’s burial. The night was so brief because the witching hour was dark. There is smoke, dust, and the smell of guns, bombs, and gas everywhere. I couldn’t sleep. The stuffy atmosphere weighed on my mind throughout my stay.
Tonight, I experienced a nightmare with my eyes wide open. I taped the window, and it creaked open slowly. My eyes became enlarged but could only see blank. Deep within, a shallow sigh called for help. Dangling ropes and gallows; blood, corpses, and hanging dead souls; squelching trees, fire, swamps, and dirt; blank streets, a naked neighborhood.
When I was a child, this used to be a beautiful place. Where we played hide and seek, pranked the elderly, climbed trees, and listened to beautiful stories at night. Today, a monster is all I could see.
How did the night pass as I slept? All has been stolen from us. Man, or beast; evil to the core. Enemy of the white and black, eastern seas, and the Atlantic.
Here, will there ever be peace again?