Immersed in his rest,
So buried within the dream,
He couldn't clasp the enkindling air approaching his door.

The wrathful sounds of explosions abusing precious ears,
The sights of lifeless stares,
Screams in anxiety,
The grievous tears,
The heaviness of nothing, quickly turns into something,
As it takes bodies, then gently drops them to the floor,
The punch holes through the compressed walls out endless frustration.

The flares crept through the gaunt space under the door.
His eyes were too closed to see the rendering of his brand new toys,
As they plunged to the floor,
Now empty of hilarity.
The tingling sounds of flames were getting closer and closer by the minute.

The relief of a watery chill gently touched faces,
Washing away the memories of what just happened.
Quickly it became a nuisance when,
'Wait, we're missing somebody',
Came out of somebody's mouth.

A fast pacing hour strolled on by before 'The baby' attacked the air.
When her mind could no longer take the agonizing stress attacking her one after another,
She finally ran to the once smoldering house, to save just what might be the last "living" part of her.

But when she got there,
It was just too late.
The murky shadows had already picked her baby up,
Held him tight,
And refused to let him go.
Perhaps, upon knowing the child will be safe.