Etched

The sun has set upon the hills The moonlight glares as my body Awaits the embrace of dreams. My mind wanders, my thoughts drift A noise stirs in the silence, The crash foreshadows more. A scream—is it my mother? A boom, more yelling too, A thud, is that my brother? The men invade my room I follow them and do as I’m told, Kill them, they say, and hand me a knife. I feel the fear in my family’s eyes, My chance for life rests in their destruction I give into my captors’ demand, Coating my hands in unwashable stains. My leaders delight in my compliance, The tallest one turns to me He motions to leave. I step into the cold night, I’m alone and shaking, my eyes leak, My masters join me; both grinning The stinging in my head is a joy.