She cowers, patiently down their debris powdered basement;
a babe's lips whispered in the wee hours..
.. feet surround their tainted speech around the ground floor vacance:
agape, with furniture burned n' torn, torched,
cursing flagrants and a patient man slain on the burning floor!
The swords burm swells with hell, blood and formers..
.. dripping fluids pelt the worm wood delves
where the final yells of her husband fell through the floor boards..
.. before the doors' closure absorbs the soldier.
As that old bars clasp folders around the cold hard latch
her whole heart cracks..
.. shatters, as she screams, and both arms crash
around that obscene carcass' old charred deceased partisans;
a hole carved where his open heart received martyring,
the whole home barbed..
.. infant baskets collapsed in with slant crowbars
and slashes dance within the thin home's heart.
Pretend those lives don't start, so they wont start to endo by..
.. it's better than cold scars and a pharaoh's genocide.
Day she left, home behind..
.. baby on her cold dry breast.
In disarray she met the roadside looking for a place she'd rest,
short of breath, and even less of hope lined mindsets and safety jest..
.. she set aside the brookline where the daisies slept.
Against a desperate lady's look-by, a stretch of 80 took 5
to pace 3 miles by roads of stone and crooked lines.
The methodic march shook dry hedge off its arms,
as her eyes took wide..
.. and her breath stopped quick, then on it'd start!
Her stong fingers sever caution,
in shock her shivers sick in quiver..
.. short of better option!
She holds fast, but those old knees collapse in thier casket,
before she throws that last kiss in a feeble pass..
.. and pats her son along the river in his wicker basket
Go, with the hope of moment
.. my sweet, sweet little Moses.