Kreig

The rockets roar, the shells and bombs descend,
I cower in a structure all too frail.
I've had it with this war without an end.
My spirit weeps, my soul begins to fail.

An artificial silence plugs my ears,
I curl beneath a bench, devoid of nerve.
I should have known my peace was in arrears.
I should have kept my bunker in reserve.

For concrete is so mighty, and so strong!
It always kept me safe when bullets flew.
My bunker was my friend, it did no wrong.
Why did I break it down for something new?

But as I start to fall into the brink,
"This battle could be self-induced," I think.