It is cold and dark outside:
there is a battle being fought
Between the wind
and the passive trees.
The wind is relentless
attacking from all sides.
The shelter has no place
to shelter.
There are vicitims
once severed they fall
and are left to rot elsewhere.
wooden shrapnel hits my window;
like a General in the safe
zone I watch in intrigue.
The wind is winning
aidied by its invisible weapon.
Although it claims only the
smallest of foes.
Unafected the armoured
trunk stands firm.
There will be no end to this:
This was has been
since the start of time.
After four hours of endless
attack and without victory
the attacker turns its attention
to the clouds.
It is almost quiet now
apart from the sounds
of the victims, of the fallen
rustling down the now peaceful street.
Not Long Left
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/outside-my-window-there-is-a-war/
