Two eyes open in the wake of night,
they catch a glimpse of a man and wife.
A blaze from the window caresses his cheeks,
the man there will be dead within weeks.

One eye opens, as corpses water the fields,
a ****** song rings through the hills.
Thundering hooves, the shock of the ****,
groans of the wounded mixed with muffled screams.

Two eyes shut-closed amidst the pyre's smoke,
barred by the weight of minted cold.
The warmth from the flames, rises up darkened streets,
lighting its way to a baby's crib.