Voice of the Martyr
OH! Martyr thou remind us again
Long to listen thy, words of pain
The sky monsters as black as night
Come prowling looking for a fight.
Cradled close I can smell her
The scent of mum it soothes me over.
There’s nothing else that we can do
But lie in wait till morning’s due.
The beating of my mother’s heart
The sound of buildings ripped apart.
The whistling before the big bright flash
Holding hands we make a dash.
Lifted, twisted, we are flying
The bed is spinning where we were lying.
My ears are burning with the roar
The boom I’ve never heard before.
Floating, a moment, time holds on
And then everything is gone.
The ground erupts and swallows me
Or is it the ceiling? I can’t see.
Which way is up? I knew before
It’s dark and cold, and I am raw.
My hand mummy, we’re holding tight
Everything is going to be alright.
Don’t let me go, I need you more
You know that I am nearly four.
Dark and fire, rubble and mud
Or is it earth mixed up with blood?
I move my body, but not much,
My chin and cheek I can not touch.
I call my mum, as my face is sore
Up cuddle me from the floor.
We never let go, our fingers entwined
A greater love you’ll never find.
I need her now, I need her grace
I want her to touch my face.
I pull her hand from the floor
I have her hand and nothing more.