by Nick Gisburne
He shivers, wounded, waiting for the end
A punishment beyond the edge of sense
Debris and dust entomb his fallen friend
The weight of guilt impossible, immense
Confused, disturbing avenues of thought
Lead only to the place where he will die
Ignoring what a child is always taught
Their presence is concealed beneath a lie
The ruin, shattered, shaken by the war
Forbidden, but a fascinating place
A secret, scouted many times before
Confines them to the crush of its embrace
The tiny, feeble torch begins to fade
He whispers for his mother, cold, afraid
