The Sky Written with Screams

The day lay on the street,
Cold as a shell
That did not explode –
But in every heart, there is a fracture.

In the city, there are no doors left –
Only openings into memory.
And the sky, like parchment,
Was written over with screams.

I saw a child searching
Not for a mother – but for a voice.
Because voices in this war –
Are the only thing that still holds.

And yesterday’s houses,
Like weary giants,
Fell to their knees
Before their own ruin.

Someone said: “We will endure,”
But they did not know that the wind also weeps.
Even the air here has blood within it,
And even silence – screams.