THE DOLL

 

Below bombed ruins

The cellar

Is fragile

Dark, ever colder.

 

Now the tunnel

Grows longer

With each breathless hour.

 

Sweet rain drops seep

Heavy handed on my shoulders…

 

Above the booted Jackal

Baits his prey.

Hungry, lusting, closer.

 

I dare not cry.

In case Mother cries.

Father cries.

You cry…