Picture

HORSE HILL

Under a house of rotting limbs
three boys dined
Toasting to the elements because
they were so inclined

For the chill in the air
and heaven's sake
The children gave to a slumber
from which they'd never wake

An air raid siren
lay silent on the hill
in the screaming
of a torturous kill

Flesh lay strewn across the fields
a familiar stench shere flies remain
Bring memories of a sweet breeze yearning
for the wanderer and the young ones slain