The Church

How could I forget?

Sacrilege scorched

To the back of my eyelids

And I see it over and over

Every time I close my eyes


This terrible memory

Has not been lost over time

As I recall that cruel night

A night as black as pitch

And the cold, icy and biting


From my bedroom window

I could see the church on the hill

A beacon of hope standing the test of time

Now engulfed in a flaming fiery blaze

That could have come from Hell itself


The star lit sky was bright orange

While the smoke created patterns

Swirling in the wind that fanned the blaze

The structure began to fail

Stone collapsed and wood splintered


Fixated by this terrible sight

I swear I saw dark shadows

Dancing around the fire

Their gestures in celebration of

The demise of this symbol of good


Mesmerised by the moment

I could see the flames

Through the shadows

Given the illusion of

Eyes and mouths and teeth


Orange red eyes that glowed

Mouths that formed toothy grins

Menacing grins that turned

Into what looked like

Open mouthed laughter


Each gesture melding into the next

With each shape changing and

Melting into the next demonic shape

And all I could do was stand my ground

Watching this terrible event unfurl


I didn’t sleep much that night

To a young boy witnessing

Such a cruel, frightening vision

My dreams were tormented by

The shadows scratching at my window


The next morning I woke

And sprung to my window

Had I witness a terrible nightmare

No; there it was the smouldering

Scorched unholy skeleton


I quietly wept, for hope had burned to the ground


Copyright © JRFC from May 2019
Image from Pixabay, modified by JRFC

8 thoughts on “The Church

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