Northern Ireland

Blood stained houses invade your night, A Hungry sniper waits out of sight, Your every movement is closely observed, Footsteps the only sound to be heard. Thoughts of your wife feeds on the silence, Your reason to survive in this hole of violence. Moving cautiously through streets grey and bare, A 'CRACK' splits open the damp dark air. Dreams of children shatter as you fall to the ground, You never even saw him fire the round. Another victory in his war of fear, A loss to those far away held dear, A political victim at religion's hand, Whose only wish was an end to this slaughter of man.