Last night, visions of war 
Hung on my dreams
Like a gaping impending sore

We were children still
Boys being smitten 
By the foreign soldiers

Girls, the attention of violent ardence
Were shoved and plucked
By merciless men; out of sight

They shed us of personal items
That would marry us to our vernacular world
And jostled us vapid moist bread

The children fettered in lines
Their teachers goaded by grunts
I think the rosebuds were wilting for us

Two sisters and I
Tried to bolt into a storm duct
We failed; reprimanded by arms

I plunged from sleep
With convulsions
My pillow soaked by eyes

Loped to my window
And beheld the sight
Of distaste that left me vigil 

The sky hung in red tatters
Low, like falling ribbons
All other world tints dispatched

Suddenly the damned nightmare
Of my paniced child mind
Was draping from the heavens.