Our war

I forget which day is Sunday,
because now,
I pray all the time.

As bombs fall past my window,
Alongside the rain,
Like two friends,
Together,
Getting no younger.

Alone in this room,
As thousands stand by my side,
And a storm brews,
So that rain and bombs fall heavier,
Together,
Older.

Each of us now raises our guns,
And as one, pull the trigger.

I forget which day is which,
For each is filled with prayer,
In this solitary room,
Bitter and unaided,
As we all stand together,
And as one, pull the trigger.
We trap ourselves yet further.

An explosion awakes us from our dreaming prayer,
And we are as one,
Alone in our waking nightmare.