I ponder at walls so pure,
Untouched while I was gone,
Forced denial with no cure,
A past for which I long.
My Dwarf palm with no water,
Limbs lay broken in dirt,
Like dreams I knew would shatter,
Do they know how I hurt?
My head on arm as I tire,
Memories flooding back.
Explosions, shouts, and gun-fire,
Life changed in one attack.
Six months, never to be free,
No waking with the dawn,
So sure I am the broken tree,
But will I struggle on?
White walls begin to rot,
Space where my arm should be,
And I shudder with the thought,
Of none to water me.
