Zoi's Window

She was only five, yet called herself Striker Chhetri Junior in her dreams. She knew her goal; she knew her path, But as she gazed at the beam that had crushed her, She realized she needed both feet. The dead are not the only ones who died... For four years he had only found Joy in the world wherein he lived. But that his glass - still filled - dropped, As fear and fire stole neither love nor life, Just the hope that drove him forward. The dead are not the only ones who died... Though only three, it was she Who guided her younger brother. Hand-in-hand they had walked inside. Only she returned, not the boy Nor her confidence that held him tight. The dead are not the only ones who died... Two years old was his imagination That created empires from tents and slums. But not even fantasy's flights Could mask the debris and the screams That would forever raze his childish mi...