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The light flicked
The darkness hid.
Hisss!
The cat whispered
To the cockroach In the crib,
The baby is dead,
The house is filled with holes
And no water,
We battle our masters
with laughter that shatters
the perception of contrasting stature.
A giggle is a stave through the heart of catastrouphy.
But we hide behined tears,
It is an endless sea of dry, desolate desert
Unimaginably hot, a blanket of sweat always present
There are constant explosions, pops of sniper guns
He's been in the middle of this hell for a year
