It was mid-day in April
when the city was soaked in sulfur and blood.
The streets were a sepulcher of butchered men;
the smell of bullets and bombs perfumed the entire place.
Horrific wailings were heard everywhere;
cries of terror,
shouts of commiseration,
sighs of desperation:
All of them echoed in a city of ruins,
in a place of punished innocence and cold feet.
Loud shots were fired;
loads of cannons roared like thunder.
From behind, heads were plucked from crime-less necks.
My knees shook; my palms breathed with ice.
The bandits were heading toward my direction;
I pleaded, "Good Lord! Let mercy reign ..."
And it did.
Faith has shut the mouth of death.