Tongues of fire stab the sky;
                fiery discharge from the mouths of serried bells  

                            Thunder rumbles through still air;
                death’s express trained on someone’s nowhere.

                            Dark clouds roil in the distance;
                                destruction’s twisted smoke.

                                       A shrill bird sings.
                         The pockmarked face of mother earth
                         recoils at the touch of invading ghosts.

                    Foot follows foot through mud and tall grass.
                                     Torment is a green maze.

                            Turn, twist, walk in paranoid silence;
                                         nightmare topiary.
                                                No exit,
                                         only a door to Hell

                              Lives rush past terror-filled eyes;
                                       spirits leak into the earth.
                                           There is no requiem—
                               only keening women to pipe us on.