It was a stormy night.
The wind was howling through the trees.
No shelter in sight for the boy.
Oh how he wished for calm.
But to no avail all he could do
is fight the storm. Tears streamed from his eyes.
But the rain made them invisible.
On he trudged, wet and cold.
Would he find relief?
In the distance he saw a tin roofed cover and
He ran for it. Relived to find somewhere dry
He sat down. Suddenly he became aware of the
Incessant noise of the rain on the roof. The
Drumming of the rain was deafening. The rain
Was unrelenting and so was the noise.
Now his tears became visible. He wished
He was back home snuggling in his warm bed.
He saw a man, an army lieutenant, coming closer.
In his hand was a machine gun blazing away.
Bullets churned the ground around the boy.
Then came a sharp pain biting at his side
Down he went, blood streaming down his leg.
As the sun rose, he was dimly aware of how weak he was.
He fought back the darkness that was creeping into his soul.
He began to shake, harder and harder came the shaking
"Billy wake up" his mother said. He became aware of the
Softness of his bed. And the tender hands that shook him
"Billy wake up," again came the gentle shaking.
He threw his arms around his mother safe from his nightmare.
