In memory of the anniversary, although incredibly I wrote it on the day of the anniversary without realising the significance till the day after!

Krystallnacht

Broken caste iron stands where once from the same material promises were wrought/
pen hand, show true aspect of the knife, reveal clearly how dearly a single night be bought/
eventually, irregular rhythmns become the patterns of the everyday/
howls as hi-hats,screams as snares,twinkling glass shards and then the guttural blast of the bass drum gunshot/
run with hot leaden feet over rubble,glance with streaming eyes over once familiar/
we should know this though its a familiar story recycled, for every new generation in changing glory it comes/
my fractured face stares right back from broken glass gasping naked on blackened earth/
the profile i see looks forward to a better age, but when i look in my own eyes every morning/
the past is a slumbering tyrant awaiting the day of reawakening.